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You’re a clown you’re a dandy
you’re a fop U R
You’re a death’s head
upon a mop U R
You’re not here
you don’t get to say it but U R
Yesterday I took the bus
out to Berriedale
Turns out I was never there
but U R
You’re a scapegrace
who’s out of luck U R
You’re a mooncalf baby
you suck U R
You’re not here you
don’t get to say it but U R
Often I wonder
when things have me under
What strange motivations to ends
Ends that conspire to
make me a stranger
and make enemies
of my friends U R
You’re a pong
you’re a poor cologne U R
You’re just sittin’
there all alone U R
Why don’t you give me a call
Why don’t I give you a call
Now I am tired and
sad and quite wasted
and sat in the dark on my own U R
Most of the time seems like
all of the good years
are gone
and I’ve blown them all
But that’s just silly U R