Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate

Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate

Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate

Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate
Pu-pupate, pu pate,
Pu-pate, pu-pupate, pu pa-ate...

I should peddle butterflies
There's a shortage in the city,
I'll stand on the street corner
All mysterious and giddy,
When the passers by pass by
I will open up my trench coat,
They will see the butterflies
Dangling like fake rolexes...

Every morning I wake up
With a purpose and a smirk
I'll put on my fake mustache,
I'll drink Heineken, eat cornflakes...

Then I'll call my mum and dad
Tell them that I'm doing fine,
Or I'll write a tipsy letter
[ From: http://www.elyrics.net]
To a real good friend of mine,
Or I'll jump upon the bed
Waltzing madly with the broomstick
But before I leave the house
I will fill my lips with lipstick...

But peddling is a dirty sport
There's competition in the city,
Everyone is on a street corner
All mysterious and giddy.
Some are selling bags and shoes,
Some are selling books and gold,
I've been standing here for days
Not one butterfly's been sold...

And how I'm
Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate

Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate

Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate

Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate
Pu-pu-pate, pupate,
Pupate, pu-pu-pate, pu pa-ate.

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