| I’m living on a land-mine
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| My body’s ticking away, my cartoon eyelids
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| And my skin, a sickly grey
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| And if I waited by the 'phone line
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| I’d wait a couple of days so I’m here lying
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| On my bed, until I fade
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| I flick the channels one to one, I flick them through again
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| And all the time I’m dreaming better days
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| And now I see no sun, I see no life behind my one-track mind
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| Here I need no fun, I need no time to find a new design
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| Move along I’m working on my 3-D TV tan
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| Softso KO — I need another show
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| Softso KO — it’s just a part of the plan
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| Softso KO — there’s only me and my TV Tan
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| Some day maybe I’ll call you
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| I’ll see whenever I’m free. |
| maybe Tuesday, when there’s nothing on TV
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| 20 Regal and a 4-pack
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| I guess I’m set for the night and anti-social, to keep in shape, thin and white
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| I light a smoke, and in’tween tokes, consult the TV guide
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| The bible for the pig who stays inside
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| Thinning, I’m thinning and insanely grinning
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| And fools peering
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| Out of my TV try hard to be funny
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| Unfortunate for me
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| They start to entertain ye
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| I’m living on a land-mine, the kind that never ignites
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| And I’m here waiting, here for nothing… |