junk is scattered loosely all over the floor
i'm never moving house again
never again i swear
can you feel the pale and smoky days?
everything's so still
the end of all uncertainty, no frills
float - let there be no more regrets
come on and float let there be no more regrets
my body it's an anchored ship
i sit back in the chair
the talkback's on the radio
the bigots are on the air again, again
we're not going to put up with all this junkyard any more
the rain gets in the paper then it peels down off the 
walls
if this is where the joke ends
well this must be the place
roundabouts and caravans, an ordinary space
we're not going to put up with all this junkyard any more
here's the power rangers come to even up the score