(I Don't Have the Time To) Mess Around

There's an ache creeping through my bones

And a lake of blood filling my home

I don't have the time to mess around

There's a dog sleeping in my bed

If I tickle his balls he gives me sweet head

So I don't have the time to mess around

You can send me flowers, but I won't arrange them

You can call me on the telephone at a sensible time

There's a beast and he's banging on my door

All my teeth lay scattered on the floor

I don't have the time to mess around

I'm done with the non-essential tasks

Oh and the making of a thing that cannot last

I don't have the time to mess around

You can send me flowers, but I won't arrange them

You can call me on the telephone at a sensible time

You can send me flowers, but I won't arrange them, oh no

You can call me on the telephone at a sensible time

You can call me on the telephone at a sensible time