XTC "Washaway" |
Mother's in the kitchen steaming up the window panesSmell of boiling cabbage comes up from an open drainBut no amount of scrubbing could ever shift a gravy stainWashaway, washaway, washaway washeretteWashaway, washaway every dirty stain you getStreets lay deserted, no one feels exertedSat on their couches with loose change in their pouchesThey couldn't spend it if they tried, oh noIn comes Mr. Softee dressed up like and ice cream coneRinging for his supper, heading for a stately homeBut a thousand Yorkshire puddings, couldn't make his business boomWashaway, washaway, washaway washeretteWashaway, washaway every dirty stain you getSee how they wander to kill time in droves they squanderMoney in centers that feed on the mind, oh botherIt just gets you downWashaway, washaway, washaway washeretteBusiness as usual at the uptown launderetteWashaway, washaway, washaway, washaway the dirtWashaway, washaway, wash it, wash it, wash itWash it, wash it, wash it, washaway the dirt Lyric from www.lyricmania.com |