A dog-eared Dispirin In your handbag. A gathering of crumbs And twenty fags. I'd steal some chewing gum, a few stray coins. I'm sure you noticed but didn't much mind.
Hullo. And so it goes. Hullo.
Here I am, in the condiment aisle. I'm worried about my basil from Israel and New World wine. I need to lose these poses, Reset my charms To when I left the factory In your arms
Singing, 'Hullo'. Hullo. And so it goes.
The words on the page start to swim. As light catches your face, you're smiling. This must be what all the fuss is about.
Hullo. Hullo. Hullo.
Trying to talk to me, all grateful and smiles. I'm glued to the TV, giving one-word replies. It's small and shameful, it's a poor show. Beat myself up on the way home and go crying to my girl.
And so it goes. Yeah, so it goes. Yeah, so it goes.
The words on the page start to swim. As light catches your face, you're smiling. This must be what all the fuss is about.
The words on the page start to swim. As light catches your face, you're smiling. This must be what all the fuss is about.