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Lyrics
When Susan she was just 18
Married a boy so peachy keen
She thought 'Hey hey, hey hey hey
Now my life is complete
Susan thought she'd love her man
Just as she had planned
But she thought 'Hey hey, hey hey hey
A bird in the bush is worth a man in the hand
Chorus:
Susan is a lesbian
Susan is a lesbian
Susan is a lesbian now
Susan met her at a dance
Wallet chain and combat pants
She thought 'Hey hey, hey hey hey
Now I've found romance
But Susan's world was at and end
Saw her girl with a boyfriend
She thought 'Hey hey, hey hey hey
It's not a lifestyle, it's a fashion trend
There was a sexual revolution
But nobody heard
A girl who likes girls
Is still a dirty word
She could have just rebelled in the usual way
But she heard Lesbians are chic
And drugs are passe
Chorus
I don't love Kevin
and he don't love me
That's just a minor technicality
We are young and we are free
We don't have to believe in nationality
Chorus:
Green card marriage
I'll love you till the INS takes me away (x2)
I don't love honour or obey
But I'm getting married anyway
So even though it's not my home
The government will let me stay
Chorus
My cubic zirconium shines so bright
But there's no sex on our wedding night
We're not going on honeymoon
I'm sleeping in the living room
Chorus
Quite Frankly I Think I Could Do A Better Job Of Being Famous
I never knew why the other kids meant
To be a doctor or a lawyer or the president
All my life I aspired to be
In colour on the cover of the NME
I wanna pose pretty for the glossy mags
The weekly journals and the cheesy rags
Use my fame to blag tons of free stuff
Then whinge about how life is so tough
Chorus:
Quite frankly, I think I could do a better job of being famous
See my face in the News of the World
You can say what you like, you know I'll be shameless
Don't care I ever make millions
I just want a gossip column link to Robbie Williams
I'll have chart feuds on the six o'clock news
And spout my scandal causing political views
Even my substandard Christmas songs
Will be money churning massive chart hits
Written on the back of a Groucho Club napkin
With my mate the Turner Prize-winning artist
Chorus
I won't burn out, I won't fade away
I'll keep my drug habits on constant display
When things get harsh and they start looking grim
I'll call Betty Ford and check myself in
Buy a mansion with a thousand rooms
Join a freaky cult that preaches doom
Lecture people on the plight of the poor
Then use my wealth to generate more
Chorus
Thinly veiled metaphor for sexual intercourse (x3)
Meaningless platitude asserting my attitude (x3)
Overblown display of indie cred cliche (x3)
Me and my record collection
Keeps me warm at night
Me and my record collection
Proves I'm not uptight
Chorus:
Express my ideology
I'm a headphone revolutionary
Elitism through music
I got taste and I use it
Me and my record collection
It's all alphabetised
Me and my record collection
I wish my life were so organised
Chorus
My friend works for the BBC
She can get in anywhere for free
Top of the Pops
Hey we're on TV!
Chorus:
Baby don't you think we're rude
We're just liggers with attitude
My friend works for a magazine
guest lists plus ones
a real cool scene
gets more passes than i've ever seen
my friend works for a record store
he's a cool nerd an indie whore
give me CDs
give me More More More!
my friend works at EMI
we ask him all the time
when can we get signed
take us backstage cut us some lines
my friend he's a real rock star
fender gives him free guitars
buys me drinks
at the met bar
I Found Myself At The Supermarket
Everything is wrapped in plastic
And nice and shiny and clean and bright
I find it somehow reassuring
That I can buy groceries in the middle of the night
Makes me feel happy to be alive,
I buy tropical fruit for £1.45
A sale chokes me up so that I can barely speak
I bought 47 bags of bubble and squeak
Chorus:
I found myself at the supermarket
It's everything I ever wanted to be
I found myself at the supermarket
Buy happiness and get one free
Sainsburys, Waitrose, Safeway, Tescos
A temple to consumerism a go-go
Gosh, the excitement never stops,
It's not just like those other high street shops
I know I'll be happy in love forever more
The day that I can buy a boy at the grocery store
Put him in my basket, take him home with me,
Exchange him for another if we ever disagree
Chorus
If I should be so impolite as to die
Just wrap me up in the frozen foods aisle
Tin me, box me, sell me like coffee
Market me make money off me
Chorus
Totally crushed out, infatuated beyond a doubt
Prettiest boy I ever saw, every time I see him wanna be around him more
Gosh, I catch him smiling every time I look
Wanna scribble his name in my notebook
Catch myself spinning reams of awful teenage poetry
A thousand different rhymes for how lovely he looks recently
Tousled blond hair blue eyes beneath
Every time he looks at me I forget how to breathe
Chorus:
Peter make me feel 15 years young
Peter make me feel there's still silly love songs to be sung
Prettiest boy I ever saw
Every time I see him wanna be around him more
Infatuated beyond a doubt
Totally crushed out
Stutter mutter mumble cough if I try to talk I embarrass myself
Open my mouth, there's no sound I'm finding lame excuses just to hang
around
Why won't my brain behave like it ought?
He robs my mind of intelligent thought
Chorus
Don't dare to dream or think what comes next
Wouldn't wanna ruin this with sex
Never get old, never get bored, never have to worry about being disloyal
Unrequited love never has to spoil
Chorus
There's no chemistry between you and me
But from down the line you're so sublime
So phone me baby and we'll pretend maybe
That face to face we would want to embrace
Chorus:
Flirting electronically means we never have to meet
Weren't telecommunications just made for you and me
You're not handsome My knees aren't a-quiver
But sex on paper gives me the shivers
So fax me baby I can't stand your glance
But your turns of phrase leave me entranced
Chorus
You're a little scary possibly psychotic
But your typing drives me wild and your .sig's erotic
So email darling no flirting face to face
Textual entendre makes me hyperventilate
Chorus
Like waking up from a dream and suddenly remembering who you are
Right back on her own two feet now she's a superstar
Slipping down the garden path unfastening the gate
She checks her watch she's only running ten years late
Chorus:
Day-job nightmare
This sure ain't my career
She's been living someone else's lie as long as she recalls
She's forgotten how to walk on her own she's learning how to crawl
She thought that nine to five was the way to have it made
(but she knows) There's more to life than being overweight and underpaid
Chorus
Run away from her city life she took the last boat to Morrocco
Never been past the Brooklyn Bridge before but it sounded exotic to go
She walked through the office with a gun and pulled it on her bosses
And told them 'In the future, you can make your own damn coffee'
Bang! Bang! Bang! Lookout, lookout, lookout!
Ooooh-oooh-ooooh (fade out)
Liquid Wiggle
(Lyrics not available)
I got the fury and I got the noise
But angst looks better on skinny boys
I've said it before I want you to adore me
Sick of feeling lonely, tired and bored
We got the look in our jumble sale clothes
But we're chained to the mirror and the hairbrush pose
Photogenic to the point of hysterics
Chorus:
In your room, there's a world which is glorious
In your room, there's a girl who is all of this
There's a party downstairs but we're on our own
We won't come to the door we won't answer the phone
Trying on dresses, singing along with records
With a 3-stringed guitar and a casiotone
That could be us on the TV screen
Boys swoon and the girlies scream
Everything's perfect in the Top 30
Where everything is always like our dreams
Chorus
Bobby was bad, he was misunderstood
He's a rebel and he'll never ever be any good
Tight leather pants and a rock'n'roll band
My mum and dad'll never understand
My Daddy said it was against the law
Wouldn't let me see my Bobby no more
When Daddy caught me and Bobby in bed
Said he'd get a gun and shoot Bobby dead
Chorus:
Bad boyfriend, bad boyfriend
Bobby, won't you be my bad boyfriend
Bobby got his motorcycle said we'd run away
But when Bobby burned rubber Daddy was in the way
We didn't have no money for a wedding veil
Cause I had to go and bail my Bobby out of jail
Chorus
Now he's getting into politics
Now he thinks he's a socialist
I'm barefoot, pregnant, talking jive
Washing dishes for the MC5
Chorus
It's been two years since we've had sex
We're just sitting here waiting for our welfare checks
If Bobby don't shape up then he gotta go
I got me a booking on the Jerry Springer Show
Chorus
Three percent peroxide
Ninety seven percent sexuality
The politics of hairdye
Reinvent yourself how you're supposed to be
Chorus:
See the boys in mascara, yeah yeah
See the boys in their hairdye, yeah yeah
See them wobble on their high heels but they don't fall down
Head so heavy and I ain't looking thin
Who needs love when you got Dexatrim
If you were better looking wouldn't be in this position
Pretty now available without a prescription
Chorus
Femme fatale all dressed in black
Varnish cracks and maribu slingbacks
Wear that dress like a ball and chain
Lipstick smeared like Novacaine
Chorus
Bubblegum lipgloss over fears
Waterproof mascara will wash away those tears
Grow your hair or you won't be my daughter
Pretty girls live on fresh air and water
Chorus
Way Too Special
(Lyrics indecipherable)
Take me back to Maidenhead
Wanna wake up in Hindhead
Liphook, Studley, Leatherhead
Bognor Regis, Pontypridd
Chorus:
They say it's true but I don't believe
That a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet
Country walks through Upper Slaughter
See the bridges of Burton-on-Water
Nimlet, Bath and Chipping Camden
Northleach, Crudwell, Great Badminton
See the sun rise on Isle of Arran
Find myself in Kennacraig
Kyle of Localsh, Spittal of Glenshee
Cairngorms, Killiecrankie, Lochgilphead
New Scone New Scone I don't care
If I can make it there I'll make it anywhere
Left my heart in Leighton Buzzard
I left my heart in Leighton Buzzard
Chorus:
Hey there, you don't care
My beautiful boy with the dirty hair
Did I never tell you how I feel?
Hey there, so surprised
Beautiful boy with the pale blue eyes
Too scared to tell you how I feel
I wouldn't have missed you if it wasn't for the Sunday afternoons
Sitting here wishing on a telephone but I know it's too soon
It's easier to worship than to love you when all hope is gone
Mold me into someone you will notice in the long run
Chorus
It's no ordinary yen, it feels so good I wanna see you again
Worship you like an archetype, circle you like a satelite
Keep your ideal safe and sweet, trace your halo when you sleep
Lay your long limbs down along the ground and bury me
Chorus
He:
Write it on a sheet of armour
Wrap it round your heart
She:
If only I'd been born beautiful
Instead of smart
He:
They can give you what you want
But never what you need
She:
Is this pity if it hurts you
So much so see me bleed
Chorus:
And all the things you thought were so important didn't matter anyway
The things you need you found you threw away (x2)
He:
Look into my eyes reflection
Tell me what you see
She:
The day your life is perfect
Then you can lecture me
He:
You could be so beautiful
If you'd let someone in
She:
I can give you fifteen minutes
Can you show me everything?
Chorus
Tina had never fit in in New Jersey
Reading Rimbaud at the back of the library
Raging rebellious through Catholic Schools
The nuns never knew what to do with her moods
Port Authority the PATH to Salvation
Deliver her from evil, lead her into Penn Station
Wandering round down in Washington Square
Dressed up in leathers, cut off her hair.
Chorus:
Call the girls, we're going out tonight
This old city makes everything alright
Laura from uptown, she always looked cool
Even waiting for her mom on Lexington Avenue
Met her in an elevator on East Fifty-Seventh
Told us the top floors were closer to heaven
She had a smile that was just like the sphinx
When she took us home and she made us some drinks
Left all alone in her parents' apartment
Best roof in Manhattan for views or for parties
Chorus
Julie flew in from London Town
Living out her dreams of the Velvet Underground
Talked like an art student, drank like a fiend
Specialised in psychological scenes
She said she's never go home any more
Surfing on sofas, sleeping on floors
Riding the N train from Times Square to Queens
The skyline was all of her hopes and her dreams
Chorus
Laura, did you really think think that life wasn't worth it
You were the youngest, never made it to thirty
All your parents' money couldn't make you happy
Was it an overdose, was it an accident?
Tina, did you ever think that you'd get married?
See you so seldom might as well be burried
Husband only cares about football and cars
Your make-up doesn't cover your bruises and scars
Chorus:
Call the girls, we're going out tonight
This old city makes everything alright
Call the girls, we're gonna leave tonight
New York City feels half alive without you.
Chorus:
I get so lonely sometimes I wish I were dead
So I dreamed an imaginary boyfriend inside my head
Told myself a story, wrote it down
But I forget that it's not real when you're around
I broke a bone when I was seven
Didn't set properly so they broke it again
Doctors break bones to heal them right
Like I break my heart over you every night
Analyse the situation, I know what to do
Cause I was a scientist until the age of 22
Call me paranoid, call me astute
You were an experiment till I fell in luv wit choo.
Chorus
Totally protected, totally safe sex
Every time I go near you, you become a total wreck
Don't wanna touch my face, don't wanna kiss my lips again
Cause kissin' leads to sex like pot leads to heroin
Don't stand next to my fire and you won't get burned
Love is always better if it's not returned
If I had a dollar for every time you say
Sorry, but I don't think about you that way
The Lollies Sell Out (Flavour of the Week)
Fell into The Gap with a great big splash
As I said 'Yo, Bitch' to a wad of cash
You can do what you want with me
Treat me like a commodity
Chorus:
We're just the flavour of the week
I hate to tell you but we're 52 varieties in line ahead of you
We're just the flavour of the week
Now take a number, take your seat
Hey, we're the flavour of the week
My indie cred is a bit abused
Now we're modelling for Dazed & Confused
But if you got a problem with the way I use it
You can bitch about it on Behind The Music
Chorus
We're all fakirs, we're all poseurs
We don't make art we make hamburgers
Sell me, rent me by the hour
If you got money what we want is power
Chorus