| Holy smokes, these future Jokes
|
| You call me on my landline just to blow some smoke
|
| And tell me that our whole life feels like a hoax
|
| Just like the lunar landing and those talking goats
|
| Surprise, surprise, surprise
|
| Can’t you see it shining in my eyes?
|
| Surprise, surprise, surprise
|
| We’re all so learned and so civilized, my baby
|
| Holy smokes, these future jokes
|
| Eight billion people spinning just like bicycle spokes
|
| The cinematic scope of the apocalypse
|
| When it all goes to hell there won’t be nothing left
|
| But chips and dips in mini-marts
|
| But what’s the shelf life of a broken heart?
|
| Surprise, surprise, surprise
|
| Can’t you see it shining in my eyes?
|
| Surprise, surprise, surprise
|
| We’re all so learned and so civilized, my baby
|
| Oh, my baby
|
| Oh, my baby
|
| Oh, my baby
|
| Oh, my baby
|
| Hey, hey, hey, yeah
|
| Holy smokes, these future jokes
|
| Found your number on a scrap of paper in my coats
|
| The earth has been around for several billion years
|
| And all us humans think we’re special but
|
| We’re nothing but the unshed tears
|
| Of a distant star, never knowing just who we are
|
| Surprise, surprise, surprise
|
| Can’t you see it shining in my eyes?
|
| Surprise, surprise, surprise
|
| Our masochism goes so undisguised
|
| Surprise, surprise, surprise
|
| We’re all so learned and so civilized, my baby
|
| Oh, my baby
|
| Oh, my baby
|
| Oh, my baby |