The beach high is brown
The beach high is brown
You surely do look pretty
I can hear the taxi tooting for us
Otherwise, I'd throw you on the bed
What's the fuss about?
Politicians, diplomatic missions
Trying to break this world down into small partitions
But none of it matters to you and me
There's a taxi waiting for us in the street
Black shoes, scuffs, all the cinema seats
And the meter is wrong
The meter is wrong
Get yourself together, put your lipstick on straight
Yes, the meter is wrong
Get yourself together, put your lipstick on straight
But I warn you, this could happen
If you whispered in my willing ear
Maybe now, I can't afford to fear
Do we really care about great predictions?
Small elections, dogma damage
Brain cells, oxytocin
Eyes, connections, and
The meter is wrong
Get yourself together, put your lipstick on straight
Yes, the meter is wrong
Get yourself together, pick your dress up off the floor
And I warned you, this could happen
If you shocked me with one of those looks
Now the driver is banging on the door
God knows what he saw
But it doesn't matter anyway
Cause we've missed the movie
We've spilled wine on the duvet
I swear to God, I swear to God
There's someone yelling
Just to turn the music down now
Monday seems a year away
It's Saturday, and that's the day
For black juice cups on cinema
Seats
And other earthly treats
The meter is wrong
Get yourself together, pick your dress up off the floor
Yes, the meter is wrong
Get yourself together, put your lipstick on straight
Yes, the meter is wrong
Get yourself together, pick your dress up off the floor
Yes, the meter is wrong


And it keeps running
on, on, on
On, on, on
On, on, on
Starbase
you