|
That's right, I aim to please |
|
That's right, I aim to please |
|
I'm acting like some kind of Victorian serf child |
|
I have considered the possibility |
|
Of trading fluids on the platform |
|
Of the underground station |
|
But I have watched and I have seen |
|
And I have counted all the passers-by |
|
See, me and my friend here, we've been engaged |
|
In a search for some time |
|
For houses and highlights, experienced midwives |
|
For money to turn into medicine |
|
And what do we find? |
|
What do we find? |
|
What do we find? |
|
A shocking lack thereof |
|
But wait |
|
Wear your moonboots |
|
They suit you too |
|
And more like Elvis Presley on the booze |
|
Believe that you have everything to lose |
|
That's right, I aim to please |
|
That's right, I aim to please |
|
Pay a visit to a nurse to have your head deloused |
|
And talk for hours about the politics of Mickey Mouse |
|
You know how it is, nighttimes |
|
Gotta get out of the house |
|
Gotta get out of the house |
|
Gotta get out of the house |
|
My life is for pleasure |
|
A wiggle in flesh |
|
I'm soaked and in malice |
|
I'm all in distress |
|
And as I was promised |
|
My life is for rage |
|
My guide is a drunk |
|
And a female bouquet |
|
My life's been mistaken |
|
For garbage and gold |
|
My life is in private |
|
I gotta move on 'til I'm old |
|
'Til I'm old |
|
'Til I'm old |
|
I gotta move on 'til I'm old |
|
I gotta move on 'til I'm old |
|
That's right, I aim to please |
|
'Til I'm old |
|
'Til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone |