The Flaming Lips

Haven't Got A Clue

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(One, two, three...)
You haven't got a clue
And you don't know what to do
You used your money and your friends
To try and trick me
But you won't trick me

As far as I can tell
You've created your own hell
Now you walk around this place
Expecting pity

Everytime you throw a fit
I can't decide if you're full of it
And everytime you state your case
The more I want to punch your face
I go... (doo doo, doo doo, doo doo, doo doo...)

I still can't believe
All your plastic surgery
And now it's everybody's problem
That you're unhappy

("Oh, come on...")

Everytime you state your case
The more I'd like to punch your face
Everytime you state your case
The more I'll want to punch your face
Everytime you state your case
The more I'll want to punch your face
I go... (doo doo, doo doo, doo doo, doo doo...)


Autor(es): The Flaming Lips

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