The Indelicates - Ill текст песни

You got sweethearts, and you got pressures.
You've got starlight, and pretty wishes.
You got sisters who sing on the radio,
And vessels to possess on the radio.
Your sex is a sickness, yeah, your sex is a sickness.

And you got time, yeah, you got time to lose.
Because you never take enough of those pills.
You know you're too clever to be mentally ill.
You'll never fashion your damaged soul,
Because you're too clever to lose control.

You got doctors, and you got stitches.
You got lovers, and you've got well-wishers
You got vapid love in a couplette,
Two thousand words and a side bar.
Your sickness is your shibboleth, your sex is your sickness.

And you got time, yeah, you've got time to lose.
Because you never take enough of those pills.
You know you're too clever to be mentally ill.
You'll never fashion your damaged soul,
Because you're too clever to lose control.

This is such a tiny world.
This is such a tiny world.
This is such a tiny world.
This is such a tiny world.