Oingo Boingo

That's right I aim to please

That's right I aim to please

I'm acting like some kind of Victorian serf child

I have considered the possibility of trading fluids

On the platform of the underground station

But I have watched and I have seen

And I have counted all the passers-by

Me and my friend here we have been engaged

In a search for some time (months now)

For houses (hotels) and highlights, experienced midwives

For money to turn into medicine

And what do we find?

What do we find?

What do we find?

A shocking lack thereof. But wait...



Wear your moonboots, they suit you too



And more like Elvis Presley on the booze

Believe that you have everything to lose

That's right I aim to please

That's right I aim to please

Pay a visit to a nurse to have your head deloused

Talk for hours about the politics of Mickey Mouse

You know how it is

Nighttimes, gotta get out of the house

Gotta get out of the house

Gotta get out of the house

Gotta get out of the house



My life is for pleasure, a wiggle in flesh 

I'm soaked and in malice, I'm all in distress



And as I was promised my life is for rage

My guide is a drunk and a female bouquet



My life's been mistaken for garbage and gold

My life is in private, I gotta move on 'till I'm old

'till I'm old, 'till I'm old

I gotta move on 'till I'm old

I gotta move on 'till I'm old

That's right I aim to please

'till I'm old, 'till I'm gone

'till I'm gone, 'till I'm gone