Written by Stewart Copeland The other ones are complete bullshit You want something corny? You got it There's a house on my street And it looks real neat I'm the chap who lives in it There's a tree on the sidewalk There's a car by the door I'll go for a drive in it And when the wombat comes He will find me gone He'll look for a place to sit My wife has burned the scrambled eggs The dog just bit my leg My teenage daughter ran away My fine young son has turned out gay Cut off my fingers in the door of my car How could I do it? My wife is proud to tell me Of her love affairs How could she do this to me? My wife has burned the scrambled eggs The dog just bit my leg My teenage daughter ran away My fine young son has turned out gay And it would be O.K. on any other day And it would be O.K. on any other day Throw down the morning papers And spill my tea I don't know what's wrong with me The cups and plates are in a conspiracy I'm covered in misery My wife has burned the scrambled eggs The dog just bit my leg My teenage daughter ran away My fine young son has turned out gay And it would be O.K. on any other day And it would be O.K. on any other day And it would be O.K. on any other day And it would be O.K. on any other day
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