After many weeks in the wilderness we came upon a strange, exotic land
A land of happy hours
Where the sky is always grey and the food exceptionally greasy
We drank strange dark brown liquids
And our stomachs swelled up like balloons
A thousand fake orgasms every night
Behind thick dralon curtains
They go on and on and on and on

We sank back into mauve P.V.C. sofas
Outside dogs roamed the streets
And the rooftops glistened in the rain
But now we've grown so fat we can no longer pass through the door
So stay we must
Sprouting black hair beneath bri-nylon underwear
Yes, here we will stay
These nights of suburbia go on and on and on and on and on