Don't Tell Me to Do the Math(s)

You 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 on to the town hall

And if we'll take prisoners or simply simper at those fools

Please don't tell me to do the Math(s)

Tonight we're gonna smash this place up

And then we're gonna deck it out in 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(s)

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!"