Oh I bet your life
|
You're sick of the sight
|
Of those eat in, take out, throw up pizza bars
|
Love's just got to pass your way in time
|
You smell of prison, smell of crime
|
I just didn't want to say I told you so
|
|
Someone called "Hey yesterday boy!"
|
Take your well worn body away from my sight
|
Friends run like rats from a sinking ship
|
Leaving you naked to the night
|
Now you're known as the last resort
|
By the vultures on the make
|
They say
|
'You have to eat the hamburger
|
To appreciate the steak'
|
|
You always feel the sting of words
|
As children are so cruel
|
They called you Ugly, Ugly Head
|
When you were at school
|
You've tried to make the best of things
|
But it seems you've given in
|
They call you Ugly, Ugly Head
|
Something makes you feel the living sin
|
|
Things must feel so insecure
|
When you're on your last legs
|
You're swimming in the coffee pot
|
Drowning in the dregs
|
But you haven't got the sense to die
|
(Or get a decent job)
|
To look into a mirror
|
Or at the very worst some kind of God
|
You need something to believe in
|
I just wish it was yourself
|
Try to summon up the guts
|
To rectify your ailing health
|
For there's something round the corner
|
Waiting just out of sight
|
That'll stop you feeling low and limp
|
And naked to the night
|
|
You always feel the sting of words
|
As children are so cruel
|
They called you Ugly, Ugly Head
|
When you were at school
|
You've tried to make the best of things
|
But it seems you've given in
|
They call you Ugly, Ugly Head
|
Something makes you feel the living sin
|
|
Ugly, Ugly, Ugly
|
Ugly, Ugly, Ugly
|
Ugly, Ugly, Ugly
|
Ugly Head!
|
|
-----------------
|
Ugly Head
|
| Marc Almond |
