* Hustle

When I come home you wont be there any more
When I come home you wont be there any more
And you will tear off your clothes and kiss the floor
When I come home, home, home

When I see land you will conjuror up a storm
When I see land you will conjuror up a storm
And I will tie your hand to the highest mast
When I see land, land, land

And we will hustle hustle hustle to be free
Free from all the
Happy thoughts and smiles under the sea
In favour of the
Mean, mean, moves,
And back doors to the heart from where we
Always, always fall apart

And you will slide on the back seat of my bike
And you will slide on the back seat of my bike
And I will ride you home drunken in the rain
And you will win again and again

Now its your turn you will tie me to the tree
Now its your turn you will tie me to the tree
And you will sing and sing forever you and me
But in the dark you wonder what I see

And we will hustle hustle hustle to be free
Free from all the
Happy thoughts and smiles under under the sea
In favour of the
Mean, mean, moves,
And back doors to the heart from where we
Always, always fall apart