Talkshow Boy - You Should Be Dead By Now lyrics
[Talkshow Boy - You Should Be Dead By Now lyrics]
If I had a gun I could shoot you down
But I don't have a gun, so I gotta make do
If I had a knife
I could Slish! Slash! Slice!
'Til yr down on the ground in
A pool of red goo
I'm clinically proven to decimate grime
And i'm clinically proven to eliminate you
Statistically significant for most
Of the time
And scientifically irrelevant except
In the bedroom
Oh! Singing soft
Singing low: you should be dead by now
Oh! Singing small
Singing slow: I'll cut yr insides out
If I had a bomb
I could leave it in a suitcase bomb
'til it bombed yr Australian boyfriend
On and on and on 'til he sucks
The salt off ships at the bottom of the ocean
Seaweed and sharks and cement feet
Broken hearts and wet, wet dreams
And pirate treasure lost at sea
And all the things he took from me
Oh! Singing soft
Singing low: you should be dead
By now ba ba-dup-bup-bup
Oh! Singing small
Singing slow: I'll cut yr
Insides out ba ba-dup-bup-bup
Oh! Singing soft
Singing low: you should be dead
By now ba ba-dup-bup-bup
Oh! Singing small
Singing slow: I'll cut yr
Insides out ba ba-dup-bup-bup
In my hand's a box containing
All yr boyfriend's sexual secrets
Typed on Microsoft Word and printed
Out on a Bubblejet
(Times New Roman, size 12)
If you want
I can photocopy it free and
Distribute it to everybody everywhere
I've got lots of secrets up my sleeve
(lots of tricks - if you want you can see
Yeah)
I've got lots of secrets up my sleeve
(lots of tricks, lots of tricks
Lots of everything)
I've got lots of boxes of machines
(lots of boxes, lots of machines, yeah)
I've got lots of infra-red
Triggered smoke-bombs and contraptions
That can kill you!
But I don't have a gun, so I gotta make do
If I had a knife
I could Slish! Slash! Slice!
'Til yr down on the ground in
A pool of red goo
I'm clinically proven to decimate grime
And i'm clinically proven to eliminate you
Statistically significant for most
Of the time
And scientifically irrelevant except
In the bedroom
Oh! Singing soft
Singing low: you should be dead by now
Oh! Singing small
Singing slow: I'll cut yr insides out
If I had a bomb
I could leave it in a suitcase bomb
'til it bombed yr Australian boyfriend
On and on and on 'til he sucks
The salt off ships at the bottom of the ocean
Seaweed and sharks and cement feet
Broken hearts and wet, wet dreams
And pirate treasure lost at sea
And all the things he took from me
Oh! Singing soft
Singing low: you should be dead
By now ba ba-dup-bup-bup
Oh! Singing small
Singing slow: I'll cut yr
Insides out ba ba-dup-bup-bup
Oh! Singing soft
Singing low: you should be dead
By now ba ba-dup-bup-bup
Oh! Singing small
Singing slow: I'll cut yr
Insides out ba ba-dup-bup-bup
In my hand's a box containing
All yr boyfriend's sexual secrets
Typed on Microsoft Word and printed
Out on a Bubblejet
(Times New Roman, size 12)
If you want
I can photocopy it free and
Distribute it to everybody everywhere
I've got lots of secrets up my sleeve
(lots of tricks - if you want you can see
Yeah)
I've got lots of secrets up my sleeve
(lots of tricks, lots of tricks
Lots of everything)
I've got lots of boxes of machines
(lots of boxes, lots of machines, yeah)
I've got lots of infra-red
Triggered smoke-bombs and contraptions
That can kill you!