All I ever do is sit in my roomAnd think about things that I shouldn’t be really thinkingAll I ever do is sit in my roomAnd fret about cancer and nuclear war and pensionsEvery single day, I stay in my roomAnd wish I had mates who could phone up and take me drinkingBut who am I kidding?I tell you, I can’t go outside cos someone might steal my bagAnd even if they didn’t steal my bagI just can’t bear to be seen with my bagIt’s an embarrassing bag that my Mum bought me years agoAnd what if I didn’t take my bag?I’d have to carry everything in my handsAnd that’s just completely impracticalWhen you carry as much stuff as meAll I ever do is sit in my roomAnd watch mucky videos like a drooling old blokeWho forgot to brush his teeth and comb his hairEvery now and then, I might turn on the newsBut Peter Sissons laughs at meAnd George Alagiah takes the piss out of my shoesSometimes I wonder what it’s like out thereIn the fresh clean airWhere the kiddies laugh and playBut the terrorists and rapists put me offAnd besides, I’ve forgotten how to walkAnd the rain will flatten my hairAnd the sunshine will burn off my skinThe snow is too slippy and coldAnd the hail is too harshAnd the grey clouds are all just depressingIt’s probably best if I sit in a crap wooden chairReading books that I’ve already readI wish I could cryBut I’m a big boy nowAnd the Government are watching me on cameras like in the Truman ShowSo maybe I’ll stay in my roomYou won’t get me out of my roomYou won’t get me out of my roomMaybeMaybe I’ll go out one timeMaybe I’ll stay hereMaybe I’ll stay at home
All I ever do is sit in my roomAnd think about things that I shouldn’t be really thinkingAll I ever do is sit in my roomAnd fret about cancer and nuclear war and pensionsEvery single day, I stay in my roomAnd wish I had mates who could phone up and take me drinkingBut who am I kidding?I tell you, I can’t go outside cos someone might steal my bagAnd even if they didn’t steal my bagI just can’t bear to be seen with my bagIt’s an embarrassing bag that my Mum bought me years agoAnd what if I didn’t take my bag?I’d have to carry everything in my handsAnd that’s just completely impracticalWhen you carry as much stuff as meAll I ever do is sit in my roomAnd watch mucky videos like a drooling old blokeWho forgot to brush his teeth and comb his hairEvery now and then, I might turn on the newsBut Peter Sissons laughs at meAnd George Alagiah takes the piss out of my shoesSometimes I wonder what it’s like out thereIn the fresh clean airWhere the kiddies laugh and playBut the terrorists and rapists put me offAnd besides, I’ve forgotten how to walkAnd the rain will flatten my hairAnd the sunshine will burn off my skinThe snow is too slippy and coldAnd the hail is too harshAnd the grey clouds are all just depressingIt’s probably best if I sit in a crap wooden chairReading books that I’ve already readI wish I could cryBut I’m a big boy nowAnd the Government are watching me on cameras like in the Truman ShowSo maybe I’ll stay in my roomYou won’t get me out of my roomYou won’t get me out of my roomMaybeMaybe I’ll go out one timeMaybe I’ll stay hereMaybe I’ll stay at home