Transitory breakdown

I am starting to think that the end of the world
Is a process of narrative fiction inhabited by terrible coincidences
And characters with prison tattoos
I am loading my shopping bags
With soap powder and polynesian truffles
Because I cannot imagine what would happen
If I didn't, if I couldn't

But the way I feel tonight
Is a bible boast
Of supernatural hands in fictional pies
And next to nothing for the skin
The way I feel tonight
Is a bible boast
Of supernatural hands in fictional pies
And next to nothing for the skin
Skin

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Suh-suh-suh-suh-suh-suh-seriously
Let's see these battles in the context of the wars that they didn't become
And not waste our time - we've got sinners in cinnamon and post-modern terrorists in shop-fronted derelicts
And choices in sauces so rich they would make your tongue itch
Just to be near the kitchen where they were brough into the earth
(At the age of 62 my grandmother had her first chicken korma -
I helped her with the order, and she loved it)

But the way I feel tonight
Is a bible boast
Of supernatural hands in fictional pies
And next to nothing for the skin
The way I feel tonight
Is a bible boast
Of supernatural hands in fictional pies
And next to nothing for the skin

The way I feel tonight
In this haunted house
Is worth all the trouble
Worth all the trouble