They call me Mr Carbohydrate
It's the only thing I can digest
They're my phobia of general disinterest
I must catch up with all this stuff

They call me a boring fuckhead
Say I might as well work in a bank
I tell them I wish I was
They tell me that I'm sick in the head
They say that I'm sick in my head

Oh they call me Mr Carbohydrate
They call me Mr Inadequate
They call me Mr Paranoia
They call me Mr Hypochondria

Have you heard of Matthew Maynard?
He's my favourite cricketer
I would rather watch him play than pick up my guitar
Than play with my guitar

People tell me that I should get out more
But the TV is my best friend
Cynicism is the only thing that keeps me sane
The only thing that keeps me sane

They call me Mr Carbohydrate
They call me Mr Inadequate
They call me Mr Paranoia
They call me Mr Hypochondria

Aaah aaah aaah aaah aaah aaah aaah
Aaah aaah aaah aaah aaah aaah aaah

Sometimes I just stay in bed and think about the day
When I can retire, forgetting everything
I'll forget everything
Forget everything
Forever but not today
When I cannot, cannot say
No more yesterdays
No more yesterdays


Dead Passive

She's so passive but she's looking good
He's so passive but he's looking good
They are together but really they're apart
They are together but do not belong
But do not belong

Yes ladies and gentlemen
Let's fall asleep to a plastic lullaby
The ballad of Kate and Johnny
The ballad of Adam and Naomi
The ballad of Michael and Helena
The ballad is forever changing

She's so passive but happy in her way
He's so passive but happy in his way
They do nothing just sit and they pretend
They sit around and pray for it to end, pray for it to end

Yes ladies and gentlemen
Let's fall asleep to a plastic lullaby
The ballad of Kate and Johnny
The ballad of Adam and Naomi
The ballad of Hugh and Elizabeth
The ballad is forever changing

I'm so passive
A hopeless fucking mess
We're so passive
Do our bit for charity
From Bosnia to London
We do it all for free
We do it all for free


Dead Trees And Traffic Islands

Paralysis through analysis
Yellow moral unclean decay
Solitary begins to hurt me now
The sunshine it fades away

Syllables have now disappeared
How could this happen to me?
How could this happen to me?

But now, I feel so weak
Dead trees and traffic islands never meet
Is this, is this my defeat?
This purgatory for beginners
Dead trees and traffic islands

Tolerance slips away
Body shrugs and says hello once more
Paint the walls within my mind
Clandestine brain finished period
Lips turn grey inside turns out
I show little defence
I show little defence

But now, I feel so weak
Dead trees and traffic islands never meet
Is this, is this my defeat?
This purgatory for beginners
Dead trees and traffic islands


Bright Eyes (Live)

Is it a kind of dream?
Floating out on the tide
Following the river of death down the stream
Oh is it a dream?

There's a fog on the horizon
A strange glow in the sky
And nobody seems to know where you can go
Or what does it mean
Oh, oh is it a dream?

Bright eyes
Burning like fire
Bright eyes
How can you close and fail?
How can the eyes that burned so brightly
Suddenly turn so pale?
Bright eyes

Is it a kind of shadow
Reaching into the night
Wandering over the hills unseen?
Or is it a dream?

There's a high wind in the trees
A cold sound in the air
And no one seems to know where you can go
And where do you start
Oh oh, into the dark

Bright eyes
Burning like fire
Bright eyes
How can you close and fail?
How can the eyes that burned so brightly
Suddenly turn so pale?
Bright eyes