| Song | Mica |
| Artist | Mew |
| Album | 156 |
| I wanted to remember my mica | |
| You helped me again to think of the unthinkable things | |
| Made my arms hurt so bad I would happily forget | |
| You're surprised at what you go through | |
| As if no one ever told you | |
| (On your own feet, your own feet stand) | |
| (Not to wallow in heartache) | |
| I've done more than I would like to | |
| But it's not all that I can do | |
| (You gotta get out of bed, into it) | |
| When even your bad luck runs out | |
| Not to wallow in self-pitying pathetic dreams | |
| You know what I mean? | |
| She worked hard to be his novice | |
| And then broke into his office | |
| (With her clothes off, her clothes off still) | |
| (Not to wallow in heartache) | |
| Amor, settle for a small dart if you can't find it in your heart | |
| But there's a big noise from her chest | |
| Let me do the talking, now that I'm here | |
| You'll steal all the attention anyway | |
| â€~Cause something about you compels me to feel | |
| That a glued together vase is still a vase | |
| (Not to wallow in heartache) |
| I wanted to remember my mica | |
| You helped me again to think of the unthinkable things | |
| Made my arms hurt so bad I would happily forget | |
| You' re surprised at what you go through | |
| As if no one ever told you | |
| On your own feet, your own feet stand | |
| Not to wallow in heartache | |
| I' ve done more than I would like to | |
| But it' s not all that I can do | |
| You gotta get out of bed, into it | |
| When even your bad luck runs out | |
| Not to wallow in selfpitying pathetic dreams | |
| You know what I mean? | |
| She worked hard to be his novice | |
| And then broke into his office | |
| With her clothes off, her clothes off still | |
| Not to wallow in heartache | |
| Amor, settle for a small dart if you can' t find it in your heart | |
| But there' s a big noise from her chest | |
| Let me do the talking, now that I' m here | |
| You' ll steal all the attention anyway | |
| Cause something about you compels me to feel | |
| That a glued together vase is still a vase | |
| Not to wallow in heartache |