We know that we could sell your magazines   If only you could give your life to literature just   Don't read Jane Eyre!   Work on your algebra   And stand out in the rain    And give yourself to simple pleasures but   Never play card games!      Meanwhile, back at home   Not in Communist Russia   Well only on my headphones   We plot our march onto the town hall   And if we’d take prisoners    Or simply simper at those fools      Please don’t tell me to do the math   Please don’t tell me to do the math      Tonight we’re gonna smash this place up    And then we’re gonna deck it out with fairy lights 'til   We are content!   And then we’ll maybe drown in Dewey decimal   But leave our shoes off at the door ‘cause   That was the point!   Of us at home with the moon    Pouring through the curtains   Working on our attitude    Towards the second hand book shop employees   Reading the inscriptions    That were never meant for their eyes      Please don’t tell me to do the math x4      I’m stitching up each one of your pockets    So when we are together you’ll maybe look a little less bored   I’m sticking your fingers into sockets   To kick-start your little heart and maybe sleep a tiny bit more   Oh maybe we should read more into the books that we adore   Perhaps we should drink less vitamin C   And now I’m shouting out in capital letters    “I WILL THROW YOU HIGH FIVES IF YOU KEEP YOUR OWN SECRETS!!”