More songs by Dry Cleaning
Description
Associated Performer: Florence Shaw
Associated Performer: Lewis Maynard
Associated Performer: Nick Buxton
Associated Performer: Tom Dowse
Studio Musician: B. Lamont
Producer: Cate Le Bon
Mixing Engineer: David Wrench
Mastering Engineer: Heba Kadry
Engineer: Samur Khouja
Composer Lyricist: Florence Shaw
Composer: Lewis Maynard
Composer: Nick Buxton
Composer: Tom Dowse
Lyrics and translation
Original
By the balls of my feet
Go somewhere, read something
Go for a walk, listen to something
Hiccup
Hiccup
Racing ahead, laser in, locked in
Everyone else can go fuck it!
I can do anything, say anything, power
A whole day to spend
No limit, no restriction, no interruption
Tears squeeze out
I can watch this TV show for however long, Armstrong
No one coming along with a video call or a survey
Or a dick pic or a loud bang or a smell that comes up
You see, I'm afraid about my privacy
Can't get me anything bigger than a sample size
Wind up winch legs
It's April, next stop, Panini Island
Perhaps some day, even this
Such a short distance
You know, let me grow and you will see the fruit
Let me grow and you will see the fruit
Thank you, to me, for coming
People move away from me
People move away from me
I constantly think there are spiders on me and around me
I enjoyed your gig, even though I thought there were
Spiders all over me
Thank yous every time (thank you)
Everyone can be very sexually attractive
I dearly want to make friends (I dearly want to make friends)
I yearn for a friend who I can tell my secrets to
Why does the past hurt me so? (Why does the past hurt me so?)
The world is laughing at me
I'm such a disaster
Everyday, I'm a shell
A shell fallen down and dead, curled
Like a heavy, downy baby goose