lumps of lead

everybody's pinching their guts

young lumps of lead

floating on the harbour

they pick themselves up

now they're falling down again

big lumps of lead floating to fruition

la la la

like tickets worn

sometimes stolen

like foreign languages

squashed into the ferry floor

one ticklish kiss will kill the itch around our ankles

and today moves in wave motion

tomorrow's failing in the bath

and big lumps of lead

floating out to pinchgut

and your eyes

watching this

they begin to cry

your eyes

one ticklish kiss

they begin to cry

your eyes

lumps of lead

they begin to cry

la la la