Lyrics to Rubbish Day
Why must it always be rubbish day
When my nighttime companion has been Courvoisier?
As if to release me from the shackles of my sins
With the shouting of the codes and the rattling of the bins
Why must my equilibrium be challenged so?
When I'm barely at my best, I've got so far to go
Can I be carried up with the winds of the world
And not hucked and then shucked like an oyster from a pearl?
The cogs of the clockwork spin
Regardless of the mess that I'm in
The cogs of the clockwork churn
Oblivious to the rate that I'm burning
I'm burning, yeah
Why the frig do cyclists shout at each other?
As I'm hiding 'neath my lids, underneath the covers
It's the seals on their bikes, it ain't the fucking Tour de France
While the stains in my brains do the St Vitus dance
The cogs of the clockwork spin
Regardless of the mess that I'm in
The cogs of the clockwork churn
Oblivious to the rate that I'm burning
I'm burning, yeah
Recycling, hard rubbish, existences dregs
Pile at my feet and they're filling up my heads
Floating down a barge through the Alberton trash
Returning to the mask, I'm the king of the trash
Oh, I know there's work to be done
While my shoulders to the weeds, home doing none
The world spins on its axis just like a top
I'm spinning in my grave, won't you please let it stop?
When my nighttime companion has been Courvoisier?
As if to release me from the shackles of my sins
With the shouting of the codes and the rattling of the bins
Why must my equilibrium be challenged so?
When I'm barely at my best, I've got so far to go
Can I be carried up with the winds of the world
And not hucked and then shucked like an oyster from a pearl?
The cogs of the clockwork spin
Regardless of the mess that I'm in
The cogs of the clockwork churn
Oblivious to the rate that I'm burning
I'm burning, yeah
Why the frig do cyclists shout at each other?
As I'm hiding 'neath my lids, underneath the covers
It's the seals on their bikes, it ain't the fucking Tour de France
While the stains in my brains do the St Vitus dance
The cogs of the clockwork spin
Regardless of the mess that I'm in
The cogs of the clockwork churn
Oblivious to the rate that I'm burning
I'm burning, yeah
Recycling, hard rubbish, existences dregs
Pile at my feet and they're filling up my heads
Floating down a barge through the Alberton trash
Returning to the mask, I'm the king of the trash
Oh, I know there's work to be done
While my shoulders to the weeds, home doing none
The world spins on its axis just like a top
I'm spinning in my grave, won't you please let it stop?
