Talitha cumi had the time of her life
Thrashing away to the sounds of the lathe of doom
In the repurposed machine shop
Hertis rote flew in from the coast
Sampled the wares, drank from the tap, and-
Snaked all your friends in a bid to fit in

Just to know that in theory
You can hear me, though in fact you don't
Is all I need

Oaker ruiksleg in the triumphal car
Appreciating the beauty of outsider art
While his sycophants burn in a lithium fire
Sugar mountain was imagining a space
Sending a link of aesthetic graves
To his array of disappointing nephews

Wouldn't you rather wipe the sweat from your brow
Than have them knock it off?

Just to know that in theory
You can hear me, though in fact you don't
Is all I need

Let's tip the creator
Let's tip the creator
Enriching our lives, wasting away, oh, such a shame
Let's tip the creator
Let's tip the creator
All of our lives, wasting away, oh, such a shame
Let's tip the creator

Let's tip the creator

Let's tip the creator