Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Pupate   Pupate   Pupate   Pupate   Pupate      I should peddle butterflies   There's a shortage in the city   I'll stand on a street corner   All mysterious and giddy   When the passersby pass by   I will open up my trench coat   They will see the butterflies   Dangling like fake Rolexes      Every morning I wake up   With a purpose and a smirk   I'll put on a fake mustache   I'll drink Heineken, eat cornflakes   Then I'll call my mom and dad   Tell them that I'm doing fine   Or I'll write a tipsy letter   To a real good friend of mine   Or I'll jump up on the bed   Waltzing madly with the broomstick   But before I leave the house   I will fill my lips with lipstick      But peddling is a dirty sport   There's competition in the city   Everyone is on a street corner   All mysterious and giddy   Some are selling bags and shoes   Some are selling books and gold   I've been standing here for days   Not one butterfly's been sold   And how I'm...      Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Aching to pupate   Pupate   Pupate   Pupate   Pupate   Pupate