Keep It Down

No more lie-ins - my sheets are off to be cleaned
I didn't start trying - divine jest just stopped picking me
I bounce rabbit footed but still peer to the rear for those bricks
It begins - I'm winning, so why is there guilt instead of big grins?
A family of spectres tut in my head, "Keep it down"
Newley quivers - eight quid for a feast of fab tones
But the strings of my purse were tied passing feeble starved groans
With a beat constellation of the fruitiest fruit feeding me... it begins...
I'm gorging so why do I feel unfed?
The strangest din - a family of spectres shout in my head, "Keep it down!"
Is that quiet enough?
Laugh? "Ha bloody ha"
One's bored with being British - Worn out with cynical, subtle and sparse
"Hello Mrs. Cunningham - I'm not sorry about anything anymore
I've decided to live - I feel like I'm going to feel something and do it
You know - that existentialist stuff; feel like a drink? Get drunk
Sex? Do you know anyone?"
It's starting again - I'm speaking so why's the point left unsaid?
The strangest din - a family of spectres scream in my head... "KEEP IT DOWN!"