It never occurs to me
To ask anybody what I'm doing here
(It never) It never occurs to me
To ask anybody what I'm doing here, doing here
(Four, five, six seven, eight nine ten, eleven twelve)

I know you're purely Marxist
Your philosophy's so cool
With your tranquillisers, valium and gin
You talk of euthanasia
And your breakdown was so cool
Did Stanley Kubrick fake it with the moon?

This cult of positivity, once again, yeah
But I didn't think about the fall out