That's right I aim to please That's right I aim to please I'm acting like some kind of Victorian serf child I have considered the possibility of trading fluids On the platform of the underground station But I have watched and I have seen And I have counted all the passers-by Me and my friend here we have been engaged In a search for some time (months now) For houses (hotels) and highlights, experienced midwives For money to turn into medicine And what do we find? What do we find? What do we find? A shocking lack thereof. But wait... Wear your moonboots, they suit you too And more like Elvis Presley on the booze Believe that you have everything to lose That's right I aim to please That's right I aim to please Pay a visit to a nurse to have your head deloused Talk for hours about the politics of Mickey Mouse You know how it is Nighttimes, gotta get out of the house Gotta get out of the house Gotta get out of the house Gotta get out of the house My life is for pleasure, a wiggle in flesh I'm soaked and in malice, I'm all in distress And as I was promised my life is for rage My guide is a drunk and a female bouquet My life's been mistaken for garbage and gold My life is in private, I gotta move on 'till I'm old 'Till I'm old, 'till I'm old I gotta move on 'till I'm old I gotta move on 'till I'm old That's right I aim to please 'Till I'm old, 'till I'm gone 'Till I'm gone, 'till I'm gone