(I Don’t Have The Time To) Mess Around

There's an ache creeping through my bones
And a lake of blood filling my home
I don't have the time to mess around

There's a dog sleeping in my bed
If I tickle his balls he gives me sweet head
So I don't have the time to mess around

You can send me flowers, but I won't arrange them
You can call me on the telephone at a sensible time

There's a beast and he's banging on my door
All my teeth lay scattered on the floor
I don't have the time to mess around

I'm done with the non-essential tasks
Oh and the making of a thing that cannot last
I don't have the time to mess around

You can send me flowers, but I won't arrange them
You can call me on the telephone at a sensible time

You can send me flowers, but I won't arrange them, oh no
You can call me on the telephone at a sensible time
You can call me on the telephone at a sensible time