The Hairy Years

I lingered within earshot of the seaside souvenir shopfront
(Itchy fingers sweating on a snoscene, little puppy eyes dart)
A tiny world is ending, detective is descending
(All the savings gone on bloody day one, little butterflies start)
Here began my hairy years

Set me down on a country lane myself
Drinking myself lame
Call, collect and gather me
Take me intravenously

Or I'll just prowl the hills
It's hares and hunts, you scour the country
We are not Jack and Jill
Why do you tumble after me?
Why?

(Itchy fingers sweating on a snoscene, little butterflies start)
(Itchy fingers sweating on a snoscene, little butterflies start)
(Itchy fingers sweating on a snoscene, little butterflies start)
(Itchy fingers sweating on a snoscene, little butterflies start)