The laundry is not for me
The washer causes me lack of sleep

But my coscience is, is always clean
Cause I never make use of it

But it feels like I’ll surrender
Cos it rains like in November
80 days left to December
I miss that healthy consumerism
And the red tablecloths

You’d rather be the Queen of turds
Then the turd of Kings

Your ambitions are lowering
Day after day as you’re growing old

So you’re glad that in September
You’ll become a golden member
5 gift stamps left to the blender
And you’ll have a quiet sleep
A quiet sleep

But be careful with sales and offers anyway
Cos the bank is ‘round the corner everyday

And you know that in September
You’ll become a coop special member
5 gift stamps left to the blender
The cup’s already yours
Already yours