the pressures compile as we grow out of style

the pressures compile as we grow out of style
but the winds still blow in our favor
we'll get out of here that much is quite clear
but i'm not sure if we'll have total erasure
of the past that'll haunt us more than we want
we'd rather be done rather quick
but the way things play out every day
makes me think that we'll be in for a stink
and we'll try as we may to bring good with each day
and be rather irreverent too
that'll be what we try and with all of our might
we'll amke sure to try and say boo
as the people dare stare and pop up everywhere
we dart about deftly
and they seem to be amazed with the skin on my maid
and the eyeballs focus abruptly
but i nkow that they are all fools and from mars
and we're the normal ones here
they can stare all they like but it won't buy them bikes
and meanwhile we'll be making songs clear
our tunes will haunt on as they wonder and yawn
we'll be gone before they notice
and they lumber about all slow and quite stout
we'll make some kinda hummus
i swear we'll be gone before too long
and these people won't dare miss us
they know you and i and they spy with their eye
half of them want to kiss us
we'll be gone soon i swear don't despair my fair mare
we'll be gone before seasons turn
and the sun will be out it'll make you shout
and we'll no longer have crowds follow and spurn
it'll be great i swear girl and you'll see the wide world
we'll have fun like it was truly meant
and there won't be a soul who dares interfere at all
we'll be free to pursue our amusement
and our songs we do pen will be sung all over again
by the people who did sight us there
as they utter the words inspired by birds
we'll manage to pay plane fares
and we'll find a ride there and visit everywhere
the english coast will be great
and you'll see what i've spoke and it'll give you much hope
that the world isn't all third rate.