|
A safe pair of hands, a reason to stand |
|
Some guns to stick to rational demands |
|
Come on, now ladies, they won't fertilize themselves |
|
Get into the ball game, let's clear those shelves |
|
That's what |
|
I read in that |
|
Sunday magazine |
|
The anvil is falling, falling on your head |
|
But you're just picking your knickers from your arse |
|
Like you're playing a one stringed harp |
|
Like you're playing a one stringed harp, yeah |
|
Like Wily |
|
Coyote, as if the fall wasn't enough |
|
Those bastards from |
|
ACME, they got more nasty stuff |
|
Salt in my wounds, sticking in the boot |
|
Now we're all bulimic but keep forgetting to puke |
|
At least that's what |
|
I read in that |
|
Sunday magazine |
|
The anvil is falling, falling on your head |
|
But you're just picking your knickers from your arse |
|
Like you're playing a one stringed harp |
|
Like you're playing a one stringed harp |
|
Chalk it up and write it down |
|
Chalk it up and write it down |
|
Oh, chalk it up and write it down, oh, write it down |
|
The hand of history is clawing at my back |
|
The iron fist of she cupping my sack |
|
Grip is tightening, my voice is heightening |
|
This orange alert is beginning to crack |
|
That's what |
|
I read in that |
|
Sunday magazine |
|
The anvil is falling, falling on your head |
|
But you're just picking your knickers from your arse |
|
Like you're playing a one stringed harp |
|
Yeah, that's what |
|
I read in that |
|
Sunday magazine |
|
The anvil is falling, falling on your head |
|
But you're just picking your knickers from your arse |
|
Like you're playing a one stringed harp |
|
Like you're playing a one stringed harp, yeah |
|
Yeah, yeah, yeah |
|
Chalk it up and write it down |
|
Oh, chalk it up and write it down |
|
Ah, chalk it up and write it down |
|
Chalk it up and write it down |
