Excavating Rita -

When I need you

You’re only ever twenty-eight away

With a tailwind

I’m on Shimano Ultegra now, ain’t you heard?

Through the trauma

Jemma Guntrip has failed as a friend

Venezuela, Australia, then me

But when it’s too late for drunks

And too early for milkmen

Give me the moonlight, give me a spade

I’ve got soil on my fingers

I’ve got worms in my shoes

The stench of death lingers

When I lie next to you

I’ve been allowed about an hour to comprehend

That I simply can’t walk out the door

They’ve got rules by which I must abide

Regulations to keep me secure

With a help chute and a carbon monoxide alarm

We would still have our Thursday afternoons

Consolation in the form of a halogen lamp

Dark was the night, cold was the ground

When you’ve got nothing to lose

You get worms in your shoes

You get the subterranean lovesick blues

I’m still your number one fan, I’m your Betterware man

I’m still your number one fan, I’m your Betterware man

I’m still your number one fan, I’m your Betterware man