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You can't keep a secret |
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But you keep a diary anyway |
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And you get away with murder |
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Because you've got a way with words |
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Yeah, and I know where you keep it: |
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Under where your underwear is meant to be |
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But usually it's all over the floor |
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I can't see the carpet anymore |
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If you arose by any other name |
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You'd smell as sweet |
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And you'd look just the same |
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I could never understand you |
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Hating music to hold hands to |
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Sometimes something you can dance to |
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Is the last thing that you need |
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Yeah, and squandering a Sunday |
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On a 499-piece jigsaw puzzle |
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Doesn't trouble me one little bit |
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One little bit! |
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I feel like going visiting this evening |
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Across the rooftops of North Carlton |
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While the suburb is asleep |
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My friends live in renovators' dreams |
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It's as euphemistic as it seems |
