I forced my instincts into a flame and over my blame
I closed my eyelids and measured my name
Was it the same
But can I have some more
Of your ready made some more
Of your misty Friday gore
But can I have some more
Of your silly sliding doors
Of your full range bore
I cooked your omelettes with nothing but eggs
Probably fair
But you dropped your earrings into those eggs
And that's how it tasted
But can I have some more
Of your ready made some more
Of your lusty Friday gore
But can I have some more
Of your silly sliding doors
Of your full range bore
I want many things more
You need many things more
I want many things more
You need many things more