One Stringed Harp - Bell X1

A safe pair of hands, a reason to stand

Some guns to stick to rational demands

Come on, now ladies, they won’t fertilize themselves

Get into the ball game, let’s clear those shelves

That’s what I read in that Sunday magazine

The anvil is falling, falling on your head

But you’re just picking your knickers from your arse

Like you’re playing a one stringed harp

Like you’re playing a one stringed harp, yeah

Like Wily Coyote, as if the fall wasn’t enough

Those bastards from ACME, they got more nasty stuff

Salt in my wounds, sticking in the boot

Now we’re all bulimic but keep forgetting to puke

At least that’s what I read in that Sunday magazine

The anvil is falling, falling on your head

But you’re just picking your knickers from your arse

Like you’re playing a one stringed harp

Like you’re playing a one stringed harp

Chalk it up and write it down

Chalk it up and write it down

Oh, chalk it up and write it down, oh, write it down

The hand of history is clawing at my back

The iron fist of she cupping my sack

Grip is tightening, my voice is heightening

This orange alert is beginning to crack

That’s what I read in that Sunday magazine

The anvil is falling, falling on your head

But you’re just picking your knickers from your arse

Like you’re playing a one stringed harp

Yeah, that’s what I read in that Sunday magazine

The anvil is falling, falling on your head

But you’re just picking your knickers from your arse

Like you’re playing a one stringed harp

Like you’re playing a one stringed harp, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Chalk it up and write it down

Oh, chalk it up and write it down

Ah, chalk it up and write it down

Chalk it up and write it down