Cats Are Aliens

Gut Puppets

Cats Are Aliens


Curtain call, places please 
Train the spotlight 
On the guy who's been living without it 
You own the rights to the movement of my insides 
When I should have forgotten about it 

Clumsy fisting, where's the romance? 
Punch inside me, make the gut puppets dance 
Rip 'em out 
Evaginate 
Stitch 'em up and decorate 

Look what you made, don't they look great? 

Bile rising, a standing ovation 
Trade my crowd for a perch on a thin ledge 
Come admire our artistic creation: 
A royal fuck-up, a coach on a cliff edge 

I've never been the best of workmen 
But then again, in my defence: 
My tools are shit 
The splintered wood attests to this 

Yet I hammer on 
Leave it etched in stone: 
"Don't forget to phone... 
...Don't neglect to phone" 
I'm trying my best to be a child with ADD 
All eyes and no flies on me 

As base as I go to these lengths to hold the door 
Either open or closed depending on the form 
Stop me if you're bored or you've heard this one before 
My intentions are pure 

I put my faith in Punch and Judy 
I piss away my sense of duty 
I did my sums and what d'ya know? 
Three into two doesn't go 
It doesn't go 
It doesn't go 
It doesn't go.