Mork n Mindy
Mork 'n' Mindy, Action Man 'n' Cindy
I don't mess about
I make 'em kiss each other when my mum 'n' dad go out
No messing, no curtain twitching, no stressing
I don't hang about, I get 'em down and dirty
Then get 'em falling out, then get 'em flirty
Get 'em throwing plates at each other
'Cause that's what's it's all about
Oi, fuck off back to your own room, welcome
In the back room, when fuck all's going on, what's new?
And the plated scenes of that
I live on a really depressing cul de sac
Where couples get divorced
And people come up that you'd never seen before
Like that smell of cigars and oil twat
You go, too high, too low
It doesn't make a difference
I know, too high, too low
But the system won't go
Too high, too low
It doesn't make a difference
I know, too high, too low
But the system won't go
Mork 'n' Mindy, I got eagle eyes above me
I just hit it out, in beige and tan and stain proof kitchen mats
And out, house, pheasant just hanging about
Look at the seed pouch on the fucker, old man and his brother
Setting about, stinks like an old body, like mornings on the voddy
Shotgun lager hotty, like PornHub, sticking constantly
WiFi's gone all Lo-Fi, my arse is feeling too dry
Like crackers out at midnight, I can't be arsed with butter, alright
You're not from 'round here, crashed landed about a week ago
Yeah, I feel for you, I do
The state of it is alarming, so don't presume anything
Or Blue Monday will someday become you
Well the furniture's the same, but the menu's rearranged
And your jokes won't land in the same space you're used to
You go, too high, too low
It doesn't make a difference
I know, too high, too low
But the system won't go
Too high, too low
It doesn't make a difference
I know, too high, too low
But the system won't go
I looked out on the throw outside of my window
Outside there wasn't anything nice to see
I wanted things to smell, like meadows, not like hell
Dying dandelions and bumble bees
I looked out at the throw outside of my window
Outside there wasn't anything nice to see
I wanted things to smell, like meadows, not like hell
Dying dandelions and bumble bees
I don't mess about
I make 'em kiss each other when my mum 'n' dad go out
No messing, no curtain twitching, no stressing
I don't hang about, I get 'em down and dirty
Then get 'em falling out, then get 'em flirty
Get 'em throwing plates at each other
'Cause that's what's it's all about
Oi, fuck off back to your own room, welcome
In the back room, when fuck all's going on, what's new?
And the plated scenes of that
I live on a really depressing cul de sac
Where couples get divorced
And people come up that you'd never seen before
Like that smell of cigars and oil twat
You go, too high, too low
It doesn't make a difference
I know, too high, too low
But the system won't go
Too high, too low
It doesn't make a difference
I know, too high, too low
But the system won't go
Mork 'n' Mindy, I got eagle eyes above me
I just hit it out, in beige and tan and stain proof kitchen mats
And out, house, pheasant just hanging about
Look at the seed pouch on the fucker, old man and his brother
Setting about, stinks like an old body, like mornings on the voddy
Shotgun lager hotty, like PornHub, sticking constantly
WiFi's gone all Lo-Fi, my arse is feeling too dry
Like crackers out at midnight, I can't be arsed with butter, alright
You're not from 'round here, crashed landed about a week ago
Yeah, I feel for you, I do
The state of it is alarming, so don't presume anything
Or Blue Monday will someday become you
Well the furniture's the same, but the menu's rearranged
And your jokes won't land in the same space you're used to
You go, too high, too low
It doesn't make a difference
I know, too high, too low
But the system won't go
Too high, too low
It doesn't make a difference
I know, too high, too low
But the system won't go
I looked out on the throw outside of my window
Outside there wasn't anything nice to see
I wanted things to smell, like meadows, not like hell
Dying dandelions and bumble bees
I looked out at the throw outside of my window
Outside there wasn't anything nice to see
I wanted things to smell, like meadows, not like hell
Dying dandelions and bumble bees
Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Robert Fearn, Jason Williamson, Victoria Maries
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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