Coming at you with a fine tooth comb
Said pretty lady never felt so alone
But when the day desists, you know you can't resist
Your telephone
Cheese junkies hanging in the street
Singing songs about the obsolete
But as the hours roll by, you struggle to decide
Just what you want to eat
Cross your fingers, seal your lips up tight
They'll come to get you if you don't walk right
Because what's old is new and crawling into view
So catch that wandering eye