| Fuck like us*
|
| For once and you wish you had not
|
| Unlocked that box, it was curious
|
| But so many things that you hate, hate, hate
|
| Sick of sucking up dust
|
| In a dream you had smashed
|
| A pot that bust into
|
| A million little pieces that you’re gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
|
| There’s not enough powers in the day, hey, hey
|
| There’s not enough powers in the day, hey, hey
|
| Got a horn from a rubber mask, and put it on my head
|
| It was glued to hold it there, to block the stuff that you said
|
| It was gum on the spearmint, yeah
|
| He poured it into my hands
|
| There’s not enough powers in the day, hey, hey
|
| There’s not enough powers in the day, hey, hey
|
| Got a job at a party shop, waiting for my check
|
| 'Rubber mask from the dream I had, it was the devil instead'
|
| Twist the tile to reveal a ball
|
| Saw the image and --
|
| Posh was making off
|
| A monocle he owns
|
| Was seeing things
|
| Clearer than my own two eyes
|
| 'Creatures on the wall
|
| Accessories and all'
|
| Jumping off and falling on the floor
|
| Oh no
|
| There’s not enough powers in the day, hey, hey
|
| There’s not enough powers in the day, hey, hey
|
| Took the trash to the bluest box
|
| And threw it into its mouth
|
| A thousand wigs that will do
|
| For shifting shapes into others
|
| And twisting waves in the air
|
| And disappointing our fathers
|
| I put the hair in a bag
|
| Was tangled up for a bit
|
| And separate every strand
|
| To make them softer again
|
| I find myself in this can
|
| Every now and again
|
| There is a simple truth
|
| At the bottom of it
|
| Now there’s a lock on that can
|
| Keeping us out of it
|
| I brought a girl over there
|
| She never called me again |