Written by Stewart Copeland



The other ones are complete bullshit



You want something corny?

You got it



There's a house on my street

And it looks real neat

I'm the chap who lives in it

There's a tree on the sidewalk

There's a car by the door

I'll go for a drive in it

And when the wombat comes

He will find me gone

He'll look for a place to sit



My wife has burned the scrambled eggs

The dog just bit my leg

My teenage daughter ran away

My fine young son has turned out gay



Cut off my fingers in the door of my car

How could I do it?

My wife is proud to tell me

Of her love affairs

How could she do this to me?



My wife has burned the scrambled eggs

The dog just bit my leg

My teenage daughter ran away

My fine young son has turned out gay

And it would be O.K. on any other day

And it would be O.K. on any other day



Throw down the morning papers

And spill my tea

I don't know what's wrong with me

The cups and plates are in a conspiracy

I'm covered in misery



My wife has burned the scrambled eggs

The dog just bit my leg

My teenage daughter ran away

My fine young son has turned out gay

And it would be O.K. on any other day

And it would be O.K. on any other day

And it would be O.K. on any other day

And it would be O.K. on any other day