|
You know that we could sell your magazines |
|
If only you could give your life to literature |
|
Just don't read Jane Eyre! |
|
Work on your algebra and stand out in the rain |
|
And give yourself to simple pleasures but |
|
Never play card games! |
|
Meanwhile, back at home |
|
Not in Communist Russia, well only on my headphones |
|
We plot our march on to the town hall |
|
And if we'll take prisoners or simply simper at those fools |
|
Please don't tell me to do the Math(s) |
|
Tonight we're gonna smash this place up |
|
And then we're gonna deck it out in fairy lights |
|
Til we are content! |
|
And then we'll maybe drown in Dewey decimal |
|
But leave our shoes off at the door |
|
'Cause that was the point! |
|
Of us at home with the moon |
|
Pouring through the curtains, working on our attitude |
|
Towards the second hand book shop employees |
|
Reading the inscriptions that were never meant for their eyes |
|
Please don't tell me to do the Math(s) |
|
I'm stitching up each one of your pockets so when we are together you'll maybe look a little less bored |
|
I'm sticking your fingers into sockets to kick-start your little heart and maybe sleep a tiny bit more |
|
Oh maybe we should read more into the books that we adore, perhaps we should drink less vitamin C |
|
And now I'm shouting out in capital letters "I WILL THROW YOU HIGH FIVES IF YOU KEEP YOUR OWN SECRETS!" |
