Oh ee oh

Am I just about to lose my mind?

It was fun for five minutes

But I preferred it when I had less time

And I’m sick of sensation

It’s a stroke of luck you can plug me in

If I stink of frustration

It’s the perfume of excess I think



Oh ee oh

It was purple but the season’s changed

Now the ?clob? is complacent

And the smiles have all been prearranged

Let’s go out and get baconed

In the complex crush of the fake and floored

But we think that we hate it

We hate it more when we just stay bored



We want to

I don’t want to do any of this

Without you

Ah-ah-uh-ah-hhh



We want to

I don’t want to do any of this

Without you

Ah-ah-uh-ah-hhh



Oh ee oh

I invented life of open doors

And ?rejade? is gold plated

And the shamrock friends I can’t afford

And I’m sick of sensation

It’s a stroke of luck you can plug me in

If I stink of frustration

It’s the perfume of excess I think



We want to

I don’t want to do any of this

Without you

Ah-ah-uh-ah-hhh



We want to

I don’t want to do any of this

Without you

Ah-ah-uh-ah-hhh



We want to

I don’t want to do any of this

Without you

Ahhhhhhhh



We want to

I don’t want to do any of this

Without you

Ah-ah-uh-ah-hhh



We want to

I don’t want to do any of this

Without you

Ah-ah-uh-ah-hhh



We want to...



We want to

I don’t want to do any of this

Without you

Ahhhhhhhh



We want to...



Ahhhhhhhh