We know that we could sell your magazines

If only you could give your life to literature just

Don't read Jane Eyre!

Work on your algebra

And stand out in the rain 

And give yourself to simple pleasures but

Never play card games!



Meanwhile, back at home

Not in Communist Russia

Well only on my headphones

We plot our march onto the town hall

And if we'd take prisoners 

Or simply simper at those fools



Please don't tell me to do the math

Please don't tell me to do the math



Tonight we're gonna smash this place up 

And then we're gonna deck it out with fairy lights 'til

We are content!

And then we'll maybe drown in Dewey decimal

But leave our shoes off at the door ‘cause

That was the point!

Of us at home with the moon 

Pouring through the curtains

Working on our attitude 

Towards the second hand book shop employees

Reading the inscriptions 

That were never meant for their eyes



Please don't tell me to do the math x4



I'm stitching up each one of your pockets 

So when we are together you'll maybe look a little less bored

I'm sticking your fingers into sockets

To kick-start your little heart and maybe sleep a tiny bit more

Oh maybe we should read more into the books that we adore

Perhaps we should drink less vitamin C

And now I'm shouting out in capital letters 

“I WILL THROW YOU HIGH FIVES IF YOU KEEP YOUR OWN SECRETS!!”