Text: Gilbert O'Sullivan. The Little Album. The Window's Cleaner's Mate.

:
You better not say what you're thinking
That's if you don't want a slap.
Tell the Mrs. she looks gorgeous and don't for God's sake, don't do that.

Must admit I'm tired of hearing rude remarks about my hair.
Sure It's long but so's your nose, cut yours and I'll cut mine.
I swear.

Catching trains is quite an art.
You need more than a giant net.
Stick to things like butterflies
It's much more of a safer bet.

Truly I'm not all that angry mad perhaps well who wouldn't be
You think I like being stood up twice
You do okay then let's make it three

Must admit I'm hard of hearing
Pardon me, what's that you said
Getting so I can't sit down
Without a nod to go ahead.

You'd better not nay what you're thinking
Unless you want to get put inside.
Meet someone, you say they look great
And think to yourself I thought they'd died.

Truly I'm not all that angry
After all it's sot every day
You go to sleep with some chewing gum
And wake up with it all over you