Half Man Half Biscuit Look Dad No Tunes
My life is comfortable
But I don’t want that image for my band
Inside, I’m reasonable
But I’ll make out they just don’t understand
When we don’t feel well, let’s
Put on some Velvets
Lean our guitars up against the amp
And get feedback
When I feel that I need that
Air of “look, aren’t we dangerous”
That’s the time to feedback
Intense, no compromise
Nasty evil, cranking up my brain
Hey, ho…
She’s gone to Spain with a load of mates from work
And I feel cursed and sore, like
I’m Thurston Moore-like
The darkness in my eyes won’t go away
I get feedback
In my bedroom in Nantwich
Stamp my foot down on the angst switch
That’s the time to feedback
Somebody’s knocking on my door
It’s the boy from over the road
And he says he shares our obsession
And he’d like to join in on the session
And the others aren’t arsed either way
So I say
I think we’d better let him in
I heard he’s got a Theremin
I think we’d better let him in
I’ve heard he’s got a Theremin
And I’ve seen him walk through the park a lot,
And I bet he listens to Arc a lot
I think we’d better let him in
He’s got a Theremin
We’d better let him in
He’s got a Theremin
