| Chalk up the board and leave a mark
|
| The words read fine but the ending’s dark
|
| Anna sings me right in to sleep and
|
| Can I be brave just for this weekend?
|
| It’s a grey area
|
| It’s a bad idea
|
| It’s gonna wake suburbia
|
| And shake the curlers out of their hair
|
| Because there’s no likeability
|
| In a lack of ability
|
| Until you stop hitting me
|
| I’ll smack the white off your tennis shoes
|
| My city burnt its pretty lights
|
| My city burnt but the warmth was nice
|
| And suddenly I am at your mercy
|
| And you did your best to make my nose bleed
|
| On the grey area
|
| It’s a bad idea
|
| It’s gonna wake suburbia
|
| And shake the curlers out of their hair
|
| Because there’s no likeability
|
| In a lack of ability
|
| Until you stop hitting me
|
| I’ll smack the white off your tennis shoes
|
| She said «I- I- I- I-
|
| I- I- I- I told you to leave me»
|
| She said «no, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t
|
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t you police me»
|
| She said «I- I- I- I-
|
| I- I- I- I told you to leave me»
|
| She said «don't, don’t, don’t you, boy, beat me into poetry
|
| That’s not fair to me» |
| Well that’s fine
|
| ‘Cause It’s a grey area
|
| It’s a bad idea
|
| It’s gonna wake suburbia
|
| And shake the curlers out of their hair
|
| Because there’s no likeability
|
| In a lack of ability
|
| Until you stop hitting me
|
| I’ll smack the white off your tennis shoes
|
| Because there’s no likeability
|
| In a lack of ability
|
| Until you stop hitting me
|
| I’ll smack the white off your tennis shoes |