A Man Of Habit Abitudinario 歌词

Yesterday's Clouds Over Our Daily Tomorrow) I'm a man of habit, I always read the little elevator signs:how many people it holds, and how many kilos, then the elevator doors open and I've already forgotten what the sign says. I'm a man of habit, and if I blow my nose I have to check what's come out, how many kilos it weighs and if it might be dangerous for the elevator. Sitting in the bath I emit certain bubbles which run up my back while rising to the surface, making me happy, once they reach the surface I don't like them anymore. I'm a man of habit, don't be too quick to judge me, you're just like me. And now for another happy little chorus that has sweet fuck all to do with anything, but which young people enjoy: tell me why, if a moo-cow goes moo, why doesn't a nightingale go nigh? Our lives are a charade, at first everything seems to be xxxxxyx, but then it turns out to be zxxyxz. Tell me why there's a brown hot-air balloon without a propeller or a rudder inside of me. When I've got a date with a girl I always cup my hand over my mouth and smell my breath, I stay in the bath for about twenty years, I think I'm going to get laid, then I don't get laid and I don't wash anymore. I search my nostrils for some evidence of my roots, but all I find's a fig and I'll have to wipe it off under a chair or something, just like when I was a child. These are the things I do, I sell lampshades too, you are just like me....And now another little chorus that's got fuck all to do with anything but which young people enjoy: tell me why, if a moo-cow goes moo, why doesn't a nightingale go nigh? Hi, we are Wayne Jackson and Andrew Love, the Memphis Horns. Hi, I am the Rararors. Big trouble. Thank you. Tell me why there's a brown hot-air balloon without a propeller or a rudder inside of me. Having reached the end of the day, I look under the blankets in search of hope, I am abundantly flatulent, I'm no longer frightened, I drift off happily to sleep, intoxicated by my own fumes