| Some like to go
|
| To Tenerife for at least a week
|
| Buy the Atoll package and flirt with strangers out at the beach
|
| Some stay at home
|
| And hammer their insides just because
|
| Loosen up now, honey
|
| We’re a match made in hell
|
| They’re a roll of the dice
|
| He’s not coming out the closet
|
| She’d try anything twice
|
| And nobody’s perfect
|
| Nobody’s perfect
|
| Though some, some people get close
|
| Some people get close
|
| Close enough for cigars and jazz
|
| I’m so far removed
|
| I can’t see the trees for the broken plants
|
| Come up above
|
| The tragical misery tour
|
| And loosen up now, honey
|
| Who cares if she likes the girls
|
| Or if he likes the boys
|
| Or why they like to judge
|
| Or why some just use toys
|
| When nobody’s perfect
|
| Nobody’s perfect
|
| Though some, some people get close
|
| Some people get close
|
| And I think you should know
|
| I think you should know
|
| That last night I drunk dialed a friend of a friend
|
| And went smoking inside petrol stations again
|
| Gets me off
|
| It really gets me off
|
| Now Anxiety’s serving us drinks at the bar
|
| We’re two treehuggers trapped in a muscle car
|
| That’s enough
|
| For me, that’s enough
|
| Oh, but if that storm comes in the bottle, let’s meet
|
| Don’t go spilling your guts out in Harley Street
|
| Cause nobody’s perfect
|
| Nobody’s perfect
|
| Though some, some people get close
|
| Don’t tell me I’m flawed
|
| My flaws don’t deserve it
|
| Don’t sell us your cures
|
| We’re sick and we’re worth it
|
| I spend my life in transit though you’re stationary
|
| I guess we’re all wired differently
|
| I guess we’re wired differently
|
| If you’re so very clever
|
| How can you not see?
|
| Babe, we’re wired differently |