A safe pair of hands A reason to stand Some guns to stick to Rational demands Come on now ladies They won't fertilise themselves Get into the ball game Let's clear those shelves That's what I read in that Sunday magazine The anvil is falling, falling on your head You're just picking your knickers from your arse Like you're playing a one stringed harp Like you're playing a one stringed harp Like Wily Coyote As if the fall wasn't enough Those bastards from Acme They got more nasty stuff Salt in my wounds Sticking in the boot We're all bulimic But keep forgetting to puke That's what I read in that Sunday magazine The anvil is falling, falling on your head You're just picking your knickers from your arse Like you're playing a one stringed harp Like you're playing a one stringed harp Chalk it up, and write it down The hand of history Is clawing at my back The Iron Fist of she Cuping at my sack Grip is tightening My voice is heightening This orange alert Is beginning to crack That's what I read in that Sunday magazine The anvil is falling, falling on your head You're just picking your knickers from your arse Like you're playing a one stringed harp Like you're playing a one stringed harp Chalk it up, and write it down