I ask you nicely

Get my face slapped under wraps

What's going on precisely

Is there something wrong perhaps?



Surprise, surprise (surprise, surprise)

It's more like a booby trap than a booby prize



Civil disobedience from a soldier with a dirty rifle

You're loosening all the screws that hold the hinges of my life



Fat cats and army brats

Hep cats and dog tag pawing over girly mags



Pretty words don't mean much anymore

I don't mean to be mean much anymore

All I see are snapshots, bigshots, tender spots

Mug shots, machine slots

'Till you don't know what's what

You don't know what you got



Curious women running after curious men

Curiosity didn't kill the cat

It was a poisoned pen

But there's not much choice (it's Hobson's choice)

Between a cruel mouth and a jealous voice



Got back to London

Picked a paper from the man

No words of consolation

Just cartoons and titter tatter

Well well, fancy that

Millions murdered for a kiss me quick hat

No backbone, blood and guts

Better keep your big mouth shut



Pretty words don't mean much anymore

I don't mean to be mean much anymore

All I see are snapshots, big shots, tender spots

Machine slots, mug shots

'Till you don't know what's what

You don't know what you got

Writer : COSTELLO
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group