on Knock coincidence out of a/the window Cracking godsend groovy chat Page the heavens for a lovers fleshy heart Caveman institution rules ok The late and greatest party on the move Big names, cold hands, gimme That carpet surely needs a clean Kick coincidence into the standard head And oh god, cold god, craving faceless friends Sincerely, oh god, yeah, sincerely yours Brick in all of that which constitutes a thought Unless its a stolen one The pot that always seems to call the kettle black This one, it will run and run Print a hundred or so magazines Schoolboy, strange kid Shit he surely knows about the groups Kick coincidence into the sexists mouth And oh gob, old jokes, leering Mindless mates humourously go choke Yeah you really are a card Hey let's poke the waiters patience in the chest Yeah let's all enjoy ourselves Casually insult the girl whose drink you bought Caveman money sense walks on water Backdated and racist ideas on the move Big pain, no brain, give up That thinking needs a sudden death Kick co-existence into the standard head And oh god where's the whiff of magic That contains completely nothing in the way of power After a video session and a laugh and a joke I'm ready for shut eye proclaims the host to his mate A dopey paranoia, remembering maybe The opening scene from 'I Spit In Your Gravy', and its late With visions of violence all the way home The morning