| Standin' in the runway | |
| Wavin' at the plane | |
| There goes everything you own | |
| You called home collect | |
| And they didn't know your name | |
| Starin' at the telephone | |
| You thought he was a doctor | |
| Now he says he's not | |
| But the noices seem to tell for sure | |
| And according to the symptoms | |
| It isn't all you got | |
| A shame they haven't found a cure | |
| Didn't know the reason | |
| You start to feel the rub | |
| You know it isn't easy | |
| Well, welcome to the club | |
| Well, you thought they'd take it lightly | |
| They're actin' kinda rash | |
| Caught you in a loadin' zone | |
| So they smile very politely | |
| Relieved you of your cash | |
| Suddenly you're all alone | |
| You play the double agent | |
| You bug eachother's phone | |
| You got the place surrounded | |
| There ain't nobody home | |
| It's gettin' hard to please 'em | |
| You start to feel the rub | |
| You know it isn't easy | |
| Well, welcome to the club | |
| Come on and join us in the club |
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