Texty: Frank Black. Teenager Of The Year. Superabound.

You heard the sun today
There she blows, there she blows
You saw the wind a'shining
You don't know, you don't know
You felt a tree that does fall
You don't know, that's OK
You don't have much taste for bouquet

I'm bored with the valleys and bored with the peaks
So I bought a ticket to the freaks
I saw a chicken with two heads
Saw something else that was headless
Then P.T. said see the egress
'Cause you move when the salesman speaks

I superabound
But I still got nothing to do

A space is made by telephone
They thought time would be overthrown
And they compiled a wish list
From Mars duels to a dish kissed
I tried to talk to the ishist
But he was debating with his clone

I superabound
But I still got nothing to do
Well, they thought it was a coup
But they still got nothing to do

You must see my domicile
I had it built in decastyle
The other day at the potlach
Come visiting was a sasquatch
He said although I'm a mismatch
Could I stay just for awhile?
'Cause the likes of us are few
And we still got nothing to do

I superabound
But I still got nothing to do