You know, me and my baby, no couple like us She's got her Sartre, we got our Camus. I love her 'cause I hate the stinkin' bitch Oh she's like a train, or a horse, I forget which Who cleans the home? Jean-Paul Sartre? Simone de Beauvoir? I'm the outsider, I break the law. But here's a tip the book's a bore Oh I'll take responsibility for my innermost wishes Oh I'll be buggered if I do the dishes Who cleans the home? Jean-Paul Sartre? Simone de Beauvoir? Now my baby's left me, she's walked out the door Says she don't want my six-inch gold-blade no more I'm aware that one never really knows other Stuff existentialism, I'm going back to mother