Text: Crowded House. Italian Plastic.

I bring you plates from Rome
You say they look fantastic
I say we're having fun
Nothing like that Italian Plastic

I bring you rocks and flowers
You say they look pathetic
You pick me up at night
I don't feel pathetic

Chorus:
When you wake up with me
I'll be your glass of water (uh huh)
When you stick up for me
They you're my Bella Bambina (uh huh)

I say we're on a trip
Looks like we're on vacation
I say we're having fun
In our little constellation

Chorus

Then I'll be your Balle Bambino, your man from the moon
I'll be your little boy running with that egg on his spoon
I'll be your soul survivor, you worst wicked friend
I'll be your piggy in the middle, stick with you till the end (Oh)

Chorus