| This song is a fuckabout | |
| Not one to write home about | |
| And I guess if you're in any doubt | |
| That I'm a fuckabout | |
| Then I'll hear you out | |
| I live in a paradise | |
| It's not home, but I guess it's alright | |
| And you live on the second floor | |
| Sleep in the corridor | |
| What are you living for? | |
| [chorus] | |
| When words get stuck in your throat | |
| And all you wanna do is choke | |
| On the lies that you've been fed | |
| When you are down in the dumps | |
| And you're kicking at the walls | |
| 'Cause you don't know what you've said | |
| When I put the kettle on | |
| You put heavy metal on | |
| I won't say a word, until I go | |
| Then you say | |
| What do I know anyway? | |
| And I waste, every single day | |
| Staring into the middle space | |
| And you know that I'm a fuckabout | |
| What can we talk about anyhow? | |
| [chorus] | |
| [instrumental] | |
| [chorus] | |
| I don't give a fuck | |
| About people in love | |
| They don't piss me off | |
| They just make me give up |