Oliver Paul, twenty years old
Thick head of hair, worries he's going bald
Wakes up at quarter past nine
Fair evades his way down the 96 tram line
Breakfast on the run again, he's well aware
He's dropping soy linseed Vegemite crumbs everywhere
Feeling sick at the sight of his computer
He dodges his way through the Swanston commuters
Rips off his tie, hands it to a homeless man
Sleeping in the corner of a metro bus stand and he screams
"I'm not going to work today
Going to count the minutes that the trains run late
Sit on the grass building pyramids out of Coke cans"
Headphone wielding to the Nicholas building
He trips on a pothole that's not been filled in
He waits for an elevator, one to nine
A lady walks in and waits by his side
Her heels are high and her bag is snakeskin
Hair pulled so tight you can see her skeleton
Vickers perfume on her breath
A tortoise shell necklace between her breasts
She looks him up and down with a botox frown
He's well used to that look by now
The elevator dings and they awkwardly step in
Their fingers touch on the rooftop button
Don't jump little boy, don't jump off that roof
You've got your whole life ahead of you, you're still in your youth
I'd give anything to have skin like you
He said "I think you're projecting the way that you're feeling
I'm not suicidal, just idling insignificantly
I come up here for perception and clarity
I like to imagine I'm playing SimCity
All the people look like ants from up here
And the wind's the only traffic you can hear"
He said "All I ever wanted to be
Was an elevator operator, can you help me please?"
Don't jump little boy, don't jump off that roof
You've got your whole life ahead of you, you're still in your youth
I'd give anything to have skin like you
Don't jump little boy, don't jump off that roof
You've got your whole life ahead of you, you're still in your youth
I'd give anything to have skin like you
Courtney Barnett - Sometimes I Sit And Think, And Sometimes I Just Sit Album Lyrics
Courtney Barnett - Sometimes I Sit And Think, And Sometimes I Just Sit Lyrics
Writer: COURTNEY BARNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Pedestrian At Best
I love you, I hate you, I'm on the fence, it all depends
Whether I'm up or down, I'm on the mend, transcending all reality
I like you, despise you, admire you
What are we gonna do when everything all falls through?
I must confess, I've made a mess of what should be a small success
But I digress, at least I've tried my very best, I guess
This, that, the other, why even bother?
It won't be with me on my deathbed, but I'll still be in your head
Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny
My internal monologue is saturated analog
It's scratched and drifting, I've become attached to the idea
It's all a shifting dream, bittersweet philosophy
I've got no idea how I even got here
I'm resentful, I'm having an existential time crisis
Want bliss, daylight savings won't fix this mess
Under-worked and over-sexed, I must express my disinterest
The rats are back inside my head, what would Freud have said?
Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny
I wanna wash out my head with turpentine, cyanide
I dislike this internal diatribe when I try to catch your eye
I hate seeing you cry in the kitchen
I don't know why it affects me like this
When you're not even mine to consider
Erroneous, harmonious, I'm hardly sanctimonious
Dirty clothes, I suppose we all outgrow ourselves
I'm a fake, I'm a phoney, I'm awake, I'm alone
I'm homely, I'm a Scorpio
Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny
Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny
Whether I'm up or down, I'm on the mend, transcending all reality
I like you, despise you, admire you
What are we gonna do when everything all falls through?
I must confess, I've made a mess of what should be a small success
But I digress, at least I've tried my very best, I guess
This, that, the other, why even bother?
It won't be with me on my deathbed, but I'll still be in your head
Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny
My internal monologue is saturated analog
It's scratched and drifting, I've become attached to the idea
It's all a shifting dream, bittersweet philosophy
I've got no idea how I even got here
I'm resentful, I'm having an existential time crisis
Want bliss, daylight savings won't fix this mess
Under-worked and over-sexed, I must express my disinterest
The rats are back inside my head, what would Freud have said?
Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny
I wanna wash out my head with turpentine, cyanide
I dislike this internal diatribe when I try to catch your eye
I hate seeing you cry in the kitchen
I don't know why it affects me like this
When you're not even mine to consider
Erroneous, harmonious, I'm hardly sanctimonious
Dirty clothes, I suppose we all outgrow ourselves
I'm a fake, I'm a phoney, I'm awake, I'm alone
I'm homely, I'm a Scorpio
Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny
Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny
Writer: Courtney Barnett
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC
An Illustration Of Loneliness (Sleepless In New York)
I lay awake at four, staring at the wall
Counting all the cracks backwards in my best French
Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery
All about palmistry, I wonder what's in store for me
I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms
And the cracks are representative of what is going on
I lose a breath... my love-line seems intertwined with death
I'm thinking of you too
I lay awake at three, staring at the ceiling
It's a kind of off-white, maybe it's a cream
There's oily residue dripping from the kitchen
It's art-deco necromantic chic, all the dinner plates are kitsch with
Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks
I think I'm hungry, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to
Which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom
Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies
Swimming at the pool, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Counting all the cracks backwards in my best French
Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery
All about palmistry, I wonder what's in store for me
I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms
And the cracks are representative of what is going on
I lose a breath... my love-line seems intertwined with death
I'm thinking of you too
I lay awake at three, staring at the ceiling
It's a kind of off-white, maybe it's a cream
There's oily residue dripping from the kitchen
It's art-deco necromantic chic, all the dinner plates are kitsch with
Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks
I think I'm hungry, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to
Which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom
Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies
Swimming at the pool, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Small Poppies
I stare at the lawn, it's Wednesday morning
It needs a cut but I leave it growing
All different sizes and all shades of green
Slashing it down just seems kind of mean
In a way it's a a shame you get a way
Thinking it's just a game
Who am I to deny myself a pawn for you to use?
At the end of the day it's a pain that I keep seeing your name
But I'm sure it's a bore being you
I don't know quite who I am, oh but man I am trying
I make mistakes until I get it right
An eye for an eye for an eye for an eye for an eye
I don't agree with that, why can't we just talk nice?
Oh! The calamity, I wanna go to sleep for an eternity
Who am I to deny myself a pawn?
Oh! The humanity I wanna disappear into obscurity
But I'm sure it's a bore being you
I don't know quite who I am, oh but man I am trying
I make mistakes until I get it right
An eye for an eye for an eye for an eye for an eye
I used to hate myself but now I think I'm alright
I don't know quite who I am, oh but man I am trying
I make mistakes until I get it right
An eye for an eye for an eye for an eye for an eye
I dreamed I stabbed you with a coat hanger wire
It needs a cut but I leave it growing
All different sizes and all shades of green
Slashing it down just seems kind of mean
In a way it's a a shame you get a way
Thinking it's just a game
Who am I to deny myself a pawn for you to use?
At the end of the day it's a pain that I keep seeing your name
But I'm sure it's a bore being you
I don't know quite who I am, oh but man I am trying
I make mistakes until I get it right
An eye for an eye for an eye for an eye for an eye
I don't agree with that, why can't we just talk nice?
Oh! The calamity, I wanna go to sleep for an eternity
Who am I to deny myself a pawn?
Oh! The humanity I wanna disappear into obscurity
But I'm sure it's a bore being you
I don't know quite who I am, oh but man I am trying
I make mistakes until I get it right
An eye for an eye for an eye for an eye for an eye
I used to hate myself but now I think I'm alright
I don't know quite who I am, oh but man I am trying
I make mistakes until I get it right
An eye for an eye for an eye for an eye for an eye
I dreamed I stabbed you with a coat hanger wire
Writer: COURTNEY BARNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Depreston
I lay awake at four, staring at the wall
Counting all the cracks backwards in my best French
Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery
All about palmistry, I wonder what's in store for me
I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms
And the cracks are representative of what is going on
I lose a breath... my love-line seems intertwined with death
I'm thinking of you too
I lay awake at three, staring at the ceiling
It's a kind of off-white, maybe it's a cream
There's oily residue dripping from the kitchen
It's art-deco necromantic chic, all the dinner plates are kitsch with
Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks
I think I'm hungry, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to
Which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom
Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies
Swimming at the pool, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Counting all the cracks backwards in my best French
Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery
All about palmistry, I wonder what's in store for me
I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms
And the cracks are representative of what is going on
I lose a breath... my love-line seems intertwined with death
I'm thinking of you too
I lay awake at three, staring at the ceiling
It's a kind of off-white, maybe it's a cream
There's oily residue dripping from the kitchen
It's art-deco necromantic chic, all the dinner plates are kitsch with
Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks
I think I'm hungry, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to
Which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom
Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies
Swimming at the pool, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Writer: Courtney Barnett
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC., CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC., CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Aqua Profonda!
I saw you in the lane next to me
You were doing freestyle, then you switched it around
To a little bit of backstroke
I couldn't see underneath
Your swimming cap, but it appeared that you had
Dark colored hair, maybe it was blonde for all I know
I had goggles on
They were getting foggy
I much prefer swimming to jogging
I tried my very best to impress you
Held my breath longer than I normally do
I was getting dizzy
My hair was wet and frizzy
Felt my muscles burn, I took a tumble turn
For the worse, it's a curse
My lack of athleticism, sunk like a stone
Like a first owner's home loan
When I came to, you and your towel were gone
You were doing freestyle, then you switched it around
To a little bit of backstroke
I couldn't see underneath
Your swimming cap, but it appeared that you had
Dark colored hair, maybe it was blonde for all I know
I had goggles on
They were getting foggy
I much prefer swimming to jogging
I tried my very best to impress you
Held my breath longer than I normally do
I was getting dizzy
My hair was wet and frizzy
Felt my muscles burn, I took a tumble turn
For the worse, it's a curse
My lack of athleticism, sunk like a stone
Like a first owner's home loan
When I came to, you and your towel were gone
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Dead Fox
I lay awake at four, staring at the wall
Counting all the cracks backwards in my best French
Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery
All about palmistry, I wonder what's in store for me
I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms
And the cracks are representative of what is going on
I lose a breath... my love-line seems intertwined with death
I'm thinking of you too
I lay awake at three, staring at the ceiling
It's a kind of off-white, maybe it's a cream
There's oily residue dripping from the kitchen
It's art-deco necromantic chic, all the dinner plates are kitsch with
Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks
I think I'm hungry, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to
Which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom
Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies
Swimming at the pool, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Counting all the cracks backwards in my best French
Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery
All about palmistry, I wonder what's in store for me
I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms
And the cracks are representative of what is going on
I lose a breath... my love-line seems intertwined with death
I'm thinking of you too
I lay awake at three, staring at the ceiling
It's a kind of off-white, maybe it's a cream
There's oily residue dripping from the kitchen
It's art-deco necromantic chic, all the dinner plates are kitsch with
Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks
I think I'm hungry, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to
Which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom
Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies
Swimming at the pool, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Writer: Courtney Barnett
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC., CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC., CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Nobody Really Cares If You Dont Go To The Party
You always get what you want
And you don't even try
Your friends hate it when its always going your way
But I'm glad that you've got luck on your side
You're saying definitely maybe
I'm saying probably no
You say You sleep when you're dead, I'm scared I'll die in my sleep
I guess that's not a bad way to go
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
Why are you so eager to please?
I wear my heart on my sleeve
Gets harder in the winter, gotta be a fake or shiver
It takes a great deal out of me
Yes I like hearing your stories
But I've heard them all before
I'd rather stay in bed with the rain over my head
Than have to pick my brain up off of the floor
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
And you don't even try
Your friends hate it when its always going your way
But I'm glad that you've got luck on your side
You're saying definitely maybe
I'm saying probably no
You say You sleep when you're dead, I'm scared I'll die in my sleep
I guess that's not a bad way to go
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
Why are you so eager to please?
I wear my heart on my sleeve
Gets harder in the winter, gotta be a fake or shiver
It takes a great deal out of me
Yes I like hearing your stories
But I've heard them all before
I'd rather stay in bed with the rain over my head
Than have to pick my brain up off of the floor
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
I wanna go out but I wanna stay home
Writer: Courtney Barnett
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC
Debbie Downer
Tell me when you're getting bored and I'll leave
I'm not the one who put the chain around your feet
I'm sorry for all of my insecurities, but they're just a part of me
"Envy is thin because it bites but never eats"
That's what a nice old Spanish lady once told me
"Hey Debbie-Downer turn that frown upside down and just be happy"
I don't ask too much of you
It's true and I can't read your mind
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
I'm growing older every time I blink my eyes
Boring, neurotic, everything that I despise
We had some lows, we had some mids, we had some highs
Sell me all your golden rules and I'll see
If that's the kind of person that I wanna be
If I'm not happy I'll be glad I kept receipts
I don't ask too much of you
It's true and I can't read your mind
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
I'm not the one who put the chain around your feet
I'm sorry for all of my insecurities, but they're just a part of me
"Envy is thin because it bites but never eats"
That's what a nice old Spanish lady once told me
"Hey Debbie-Downer turn that frown upside down and just be happy"
I don't ask too much of you
It's true and I can't read your mind
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
I'm growing older every time I blink my eyes
Boring, neurotic, everything that I despise
We had some lows, we had some mids, we had some highs
Sell me all your golden rules and I'll see
If that's the kind of person that I wanna be
If I'm not happy I'll be glad I kept receipts
I don't ask too much of you
It's true and I can't read your mind
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
Don't stop listening, I'm not finished yet
I'm not fishing for your compliments
Writer: COURTNEY BARNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC.
Kims Caravan
I lay awake at four, staring at the wall
Counting all the cracks backwards in my best French
Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery
All about palmistry, I wonder what's in store for me
I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms
And the cracks are representative of what is going on
I lose a breath... my love-line seems intertwined with death
I'm thinking of you too
I lay awake at three, staring at the ceiling
It's a kind of off-white, maybe it's a cream
There's oily residue dripping from the kitchen
It's art-deco necromantic chic, all the dinner plates are kitsch with
Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks
I think I'm hungry, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to
Which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom
Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies
Swimming at the pool, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Counting all the cracks backwards in my best French
Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery
All about palmistry, I wonder what's in store for me
I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms
And the cracks are representative of what is going on
I lose a breath... my love-line seems intertwined with death
I'm thinking of you too
I lay awake at three, staring at the ceiling
It's a kind of off-white, maybe it's a cream
There's oily residue dripping from the kitchen
It's art-deco necromantic chic, all the dinner plates are kitsch with
Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks
I think I'm hungry, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to
Which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom
Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies
Swimming at the pool, I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
I'm thinking of you too
Writer: Courtney Barnett
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC., CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC., CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Boxing Day Blues
I know that I let you down
You're not keen on what you found
When's the funeral?
Do you want me to come?
I'm not what you're looking for
My house has an open door
You need a lock and key
I love all of your ideas
You love the idea of me
Lover, I've got no idea
Lover, I've got no idea
Lover, I've got no idea
You're not keen on what you found
When's the funeral?
Do you want me to come?
I'm not what you're looking for
My house has an open door
You need a lock and key
I love all of your ideas
You love the idea of me
Lover, I've got no idea
Lover, I've got no idea
Lover, I've got no idea
Writer: Courtney Barnett
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC
Copyright: Lyrics © THIRD SIDE MUSIC INC