A safe pair of hands  A reason to stand  Some guns to stick to  Rational demands    Come on now ladies  They won't fertilise themselves  Get into the ball game  Let's clear those shelves    That's what I read in that Sunday magazine  The anvil is falling, falling on your head  You're just picking your knickers from your arse  Like you're playing a one stringed harp  Like you're playing a one stringed harp    Like Wily Coyote  As if the fall wasn't enough  Those bastards from Acme  They got more nasty stuff    Salt in my wounds  Sticking in the boot  We're all bulimic  But keep forgetting to puke    That's what I read in that Sunday magazine  The anvil is falling, falling on your head  You're just picking your knickers from your arse  Like you're playing a one stringed harp  Like you're playing a one stringed harp    Chalk it up, and write it down    The hand of history  is clawing at my back  The Iron Fist of she  cuping at my sack    Grip is tightening  My voice is heightening  This orange alert  is beginning to crack    That's what I read in that Sunday magazine  The anvil is falling, falling on your head  You're just picking your knickers from your arse  Like you're playing a one stringed harp  Like you're playing a one stringed harp    Chalk it up, and write it down    these lyrics are submitted by Daniel Sheffield