Momus - Old Nick lyrics
[Momus - Old Nick lyrics]
Virtue’s overrated when it’s
Making nothing happen
At least making nothing
Moderately interesting happen
Will you look back from your deathbed
At the things you didn’t do
Because you were too eminently sensible to?
Give in to your vices, virtue is a bore
Virtue is so passive
It lets nothing in or out
The butter that you never swallow
Melting in your mouth
History hates the virtuous
Nietzsche tells us so
But adores the ones who dare to
Make a mess across the floor
Cultivate your vices, virtue is a bore
You must act de facto to make anybody care
Create a sticky situation and
You’re halfway there
Even God agrees with me
His lowlife-loving son
Said they much prefer the sinners
To the dull obedient ones
Cultivate your vices, virtue is a bore
You can be right doing nothing
But it’ s like being a stopped clock
It produces more rejoicing when you’re
Evil then you’re not
So there’s really no excuse for
Not putting effort in
Get out there and, as Iggy said
Find some weird sin
Cultivate your vices, virtue is a bore
Milton, when the government proposed
To censor books said no virtue untested is
Ever worth two hoots
Merely testifying to a failed imagination
The feet of clay required to
Stay indifferent to temptation
Give in to your vices, virtue is a bore
So cultivate your vices like
Tiny bonsai trees
Listen to St Augustine or listen to me
But remember, I might very well be bluffing
They don’t call me Old Nick for nothing
Making nothing happen
At least making nothing
Moderately interesting happen
Will you look back from your deathbed
At the things you didn’t do
Because you were too eminently sensible to?
Give in to your vices, virtue is a bore
Virtue is so passive
It lets nothing in or out
The butter that you never swallow
Melting in your mouth
History hates the virtuous
Nietzsche tells us so
But adores the ones who dare to
Make a mess across the floor
Cultivate your vices, virtue is a bore
You must act de facto to make anybody care
Create a sticky situation and
You’re halfway there
Even God agrees with me
His lowlife-loving son
Said they much prefer the sinners
To the dull obedient ones
Cultivate your vices, virtue is a bore
You can be right doing nothing
But it’ s like being a stopped clock
It produces more rejoicing when you’re
Evil then you’re not
So there’s really no excuse for
Not putting effort in
Get out there and, as Iggy said
Find some weird sin
Cultivate your vices, virtue is a bore
Milton, when the government proposed
To censor books said no virtue untested is
Ever worth two hoots
Merely testifying to a failed imagination
The feet of clay required to
Stay indifferent to temptation
Give in to your vices, virtue is a bore
So cultivate your vices like
Tiny bonsai trees
Listen to St Augustine or listen to me
But remember, I might very well be bluffing
They don’t call me Old Nick for nothing