(Stewart Copeland)
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
(repeat to fade)