| Come on in, sweetie-pie
|
| Have an apple, have some lye
|
| Leave your friends, righteous and pathetic, standing at the door
|
| On the books, all your bets
|
| Favor head-bands and cassettes
|
| Cigarettes, suffragettes, and bores
|
| What to do?
|
| Sweetheart, you’ll find
|
| Mediocre people do exceptional things all the time
|
| Oh, the ruin will do in your
|
| Talented mind
|
| Could’ve been a genius if you’d had an axe to grind
|
| When we moved to the city
|
| It seemed the competition got so much less pretty, but the
|
| The mirror’s never failed you like this before
|
| So your revenge on the world
|
| Will be pencils through your curls
|
| And if wanting ever taught you anything, it’s wanting more
|
| And more and more and more
|
| What to do?
|
| Sweetheart, you’ll find
|
| Mediocre people do exceptional things all the time
|
| Oh, the ruin will do in your
|
| Talented mind
|
| Could’ve been a genius if you’d had an axe to grind
|
| What to do?
|
| What to do?
|
| When that day finally nears
|
| You’ll at least have made it clear
|
| That compassion’s just a nicer way of looking down your nose
|
| It seems that all the people wanna do
|
| Is crowd the streets of Amsterdam (Pamplona, too)
|
| But the bulls have already come and gone and bellowed all their lows
|
| Now nobody knows
|
| What to do?
|
| Sweetheart, you’ll find
|
| Mediocre people do exceptional things all the time
|
| Oh, the ruin will do in your
|
| Talented mind
|
| Could’ve been a genius if you’d had an axe to grind
|
| What to do?
|
| What to do?
|
| Oh, what to do?
|
| What to do?
|
| What to do?
|
| What to do? |