Thom Yorke
Subterranean Homesick Alien
The breath of the morning, I keep forgetting
The smell of the warm summer air
I live in a town where you can't smell a thing
You watch your feet for cracks in the pavement

Up above, aliens hover making home movies
For the folks back home
Of all these weird creatures who lock up their spirits
Drill holes in themselves and live for their secrets

They're all uptight, uptight
They're all uptight, uptight
Uptight, uptight

I wish that they'd swoop down in a country lane
Late at night when I'm driving
Take me on board their beautiful ship
Show me the world as I'd love to see it

I'd tell all my friends but they'd never believe me
They'd think that I'd finally lost it completely
I'd show them the stars and the meaning of life
They'd shut me away
But I'd be all right, all right
All right
I'm just uptight, uptight
I'm just uptight, uptight
Uptight, uptight
I'm just uptight, uptight
Uptight