i live in death town
and tell bad jokes all day
it’s not a bad way
to earn a living hell
as if i had a choice
i do this to myself, i know, i know
it’s like you’ve always said
go big or go home
no wait, that’s not it...
i believe in you, baby!
quit fucking with me!
you’re blowing my scarf in my face
you make me wonder
if i made a mistake
i wish it was the 1990s again, except this time i’d be a little bit older
maybe if i made a convincing enough homage to those i love,
would i earn my place in culture?
well, maybe not. but here it comes again!
i feel it poking through, a little bit of calamity inside
and in the face of a deceivingly mild winter
can i keep up a sense of good posture and impress myself?
but i'm so full of doubt!
you’ve got to convince yourself, baby
that things like this are worth your time
when you know they aren’t— and they’re not!
so stop wasting your time trying not to trust your instincts,
they’re right, too!
so why not throw in as many guitar solos
as you want, in fact—
how about throwing in one right now!
a friend of mine once said
about how she never chewed her nails
until she started here...
i think i’m seventeen again
i hate my job
i’m seventeen again
i hate my job
so then i quit my job
and tried to get unemployment
but ‘cos i quit my job
they wouldn’t give me unemployment
it’s hard to say what came next
every day was the same
day-in day-out the same
handbag living wasn’t for me
i bored myself to sleep
maybe my girl will leave me
can’t stand the very sight of me
with 20/20 hindsight
(a spoiler, i admit)
but such a pitiless
creature was me!