| You’re losing your charm like an old hairdo
|
| You pucker like a swine
|
| There’s no way I’ll kiss you
|
| All of this time you’re the limp side of nothing
|
| The working man’s jukebox, allergic to lipstick
|
| Bore, you looked at me
|
| Thought you’d like the mystery
|
| I’m a whore, you caught my eye
|
| Didn’t even have to try
|
| Don’t call me n****r, you big R&B fan
|
| Bigger than England, swimming in shell suits
|
| You smell like a game show, I just can’t explain it
|
| A club 18 snapshot of the video nation
|
| Bore, you looked at me
|
| Thought you’d like the mystery
|
| I’m a whore, you caught my eye
|
| Didn’t even have to try
|
| the heavy trauma of a prehistoric love life
|
| Make a video, become a thirty-second star
|
| Sing a song for sixpence and don’t forget your toothbrush
|
| Kiss and perhaps you’ll win the car
|
| Bore, you looked at me
|
| Thought you’d like the mystery
|
| I’m a whore, you caught my eye
|
| Didn’t even have to try
|
| You’re losing your charm like an old hairdo
|
| You pucker like a swine
|
| There’s no way I’ll kiss you
|
| All of this time you’re the limp side of nothing
|
| The working man’s jukebox, allergic to lipstick |