Lucksmiths I Can't Believe It's Not Better
Take your time
Or some of mine
I’ve got more than I know what to do with
It’s getting boring
At the wrong end of the morning
Staring myself stupid
Into a turned-off television
Cross-eyed, couch-ridden
I should get myself to bed
Or get myself together
I suppose it could be worse
But I can’t believe it’s not better
A lot depends
On the friendliness of friends
I reckon I should reconsider
So come on, spring to my defence
When nothing else makes sense
But unemployment figures
I can still afford to find it funny
That there’s so much month left at the end of the money
I should get myself to bed
Or get myself together
I suppose it could be worse
But I can’t believe it’s not better
Hurry up! Hurry up!
It would be good to go outside
I know it’s late but I’m willing to wait
I’m just so sick and tired
Of the ceilings and floors
Of the not-so-great indoors
