(Difford/Tilbrook)
Iâ"š¬â"ž¢d lost the plot and roamed around
Looked in the shops and hit the town
My head was stuffed with words and aches
I felt so rough and out of shape
The clouds puffed up like bags of sweets
Thatâ"š¬â"ž¢s just my luck, I couldnâ"š¬â"ž¢t eat
My guts were full of churning fear
With so much bull I had to clear
When she said stuff yourself, donâ"š¬â"ž¢t be a clown
Paint your wagon and take yourself right out of town
Whatâ"š¬â"ž¢s this long face that keeps on
Hanging around
She wouldnâ"š¬â"ž¢t say, I couldnâ"š¬â"ž¢t tell
Was this the day Iâ"š¬â"ž¢d go to hell
I sulked around in such a mood
Until I found the one Iâ"š¬â"ž¢d screwed
And then it came as clear as mud
I was the pain that boiled the blood
And saw the faults where there were none
Deep in the vaults where love begun
When she said stuff yourself, donâ"š¬â"ž¢t be a clown
Paint your wagon and take yourself right out of town
Whatâ"š¬â"ž¢s this long face that keeps on
Hanging around
Then she said get a grip and shake this mood
Get a life and find yourself some attitude
Whatâ"š¬â"ž¢s this long face that keeps on
Hanging around