Powerless, with my talk of Guy Debord and Gide
To rival a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog
I sent you to Antarctica, I'm very sorry now
I sensed that I could only mean a thing to you
If I could somehow be a lapdog too
But to send you to Antarctica to face your certain death
Was a very, very heartless thing to do

You're wearing your pink flip flops
You tell me in your letter
You like the friendly crunch they make
On the snow, even though there's horrible weather
You've brought your lapdog with you
It pokes its head out of your coat
The animal looks undeniably cute
With a little bark rising up in its throat

But penguins won't stop following you
They march in a long black line
It's menacing and sinister
And soon it will be night-time

And the Situationists loom very small indeed
Alongside a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog
Perhaps if they loomed smaller they'd be cute enough to love
And maybe someday I could mean something to you
If I could somehow be a lapdog too
So do people flirt and laugh, are they photographing you?
If there were anybody there I'm sure they would do
But the last time you looked down to pat your lapdog's tiny head
Its little eyes were frozen, it was dead

And penguins won't stop following you
They march in a long black line
It's menacing and sinister
And soon it will be night-time

The Situationists and me loom very small indeed
Alongside a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog
Perhaps if we were dumb and small enough
We'd become worthy of your love