Love is a bourgeois construct
I've been taking my time for a long timePutting my feet up a lotSpeaking English as a foreign languageAny words that I haven't forgotI've been thinking how I can't be botheredTo wash the dishes or remake the bedWhat's the point when I could dust instead?
I've been hanging out with various riff-raffSomewhere on the Goldhawke RoadI don't think it's gonna be much longer'Till I'm mugging up on the penal code
Love is a bourgeois constructSo I've given up on the bourgeoisieLike all their aspirations, it's a fantasy
When you walked out you did me a favorYou made me see realityThat love is a bourgeois constructIt's a blatant fallacy
You won't see me with a bunch of rosesPromising fidelityLove doesn't mean a thing to me
Talking tough and feeling bitterWe're better now, it's clear to meThat love is a bourgeois constructSo I've given up the bourgeoisie
Bourgeois, Bourgeoisie
While the bankers all get their bonusesI'll just get along with what I've gotWatching the weeds in the gardenPutting my feet up a lot
I'll explore the outer limits of boredomMoaning periodicallyJust a full-time lonely lay-aboutThat's me
When you walked out you did me a favorIt's absolutely clear to meThat love is a bourgeois constructJust like they said at university
I've been taking my time for a long timeWith all the schadenfreude it's costCalculating what you've lost
Now I'm digging through my student paper bagsFlicking through Karl Marx againSearching for the soul of EnglandDrinking tea like Tony Benn
Love is just a bourgeois constructSo I'm giving up the bourgeoisieUntil you come back to me
Bourgeois, Bourgeoisie
Talking tough and feeling bitterWe're better now, it's clear to meThat love is a bourgeois constructSo I've given up the bourgeoisie