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