Look Dad No Tunes Half Man Half Biscuit

My life is comfortable
But I don't want that image for my band
Inside, I'm reasonable
But I'll make out they just don't understand
When we don't feel well, let's
Put on some Velvets
Lean our guitars up against the amp

And get feedback
When I feel that I need that
Air of "look, aren't we dangerous"
That's the time to feedback

Intense, no compromise
Nasty evil, cranking up my brain
Hey, ho…
She's gone to Spain with a load of mates from work

And I feel cursed and sore, like
I'm Thurston Moore-like
The darkness in my eyes won't go away

I get feedback
In my bedroom in Nantwich
Stamp my foot down on the angst switch
That's the time to feedback