Squeeze
All Fed Up
I’m fed up with my bedsitter and cooking on a stove
The meter’s always empty, I’m always on my own
I’m fed up with the posters that hang up on my walls
It might as well be prison, except I think I got a hall

My record player’s choking because I have to keep it down
The stylus sounds much louder than the speakers on the ground
The man above’s on day shift, the man below’s on nights
I’m fed up with my neighbours and things that they don’t like

I’m fed up with my bedsitter when entertaining guests
There’s no room for a party as for love there’s much less
The mess above the mirror reminds me of my past
That once I lived in heaven and every night I danced

Landlord or Lady I bought myself a tent
I’m fed up with my bedsit and I haven’t got the rent
And I’m joining a rock ‘n’ roll band for the love
And I’m joining a rock ‘n’ roll band ‘cos I’m all fed up
Yeah, I’m all fed up
Yeah, I’m all fed up