we are not good looking people
we are not pretty
the beautiful own the harbour
whilst the ugly drown at sea
here comes jesus
there's numbers on his wrists
someone beautiful put him in cages
and the ugly set him free
drinking bay leaves
painting the moon
i've aged 26 hours
and it's only noon
the ugly have plans
there's words between dockers
but is drowned out by the ceiling fan
put zeus on this pedestal
he prefers to be naked
people say he's beautiful
but we wish he wore aprons
the dockers said they're
bored of men explaining things
and bored of being sinned
tell the communists to take my sign
they'll fit right in
veins on the windows
theres faces on the walls
of which, i don't recognise at all
the communists stand in solidarity  
with the ugly drowned at sea
tell zeus to be a woman
and jesus will set them free

holding the sign
next to the airport
pointing to the motel
that doubles as a court
the people here are ugly
but I’m unwanted
they’ve sentenced me
to beg between her thighs

you have her ears
she tucked hair behind them too
her songs were kind of like that
but she only had a few

she's been gone now
but i'll see her sometime soon
you've painted the clock face
and it's always noon

she left at 1pm
over the phone
she had her heart open
but you couldn't afford the toll

i left you. you were ugly.
we heard you playing. i put my ear to the wall.
your naked banjo playing doesn't impress me at all.

you are ugly. and so am i.
we all heard you playing chess, with those other guys.

i am ugly. my banjo is old.
you heard me playing the prayer, to all the cuckolds.

i left you. i'm glad i did.
we're both ugly, i saw you salute.
we are both ugly, so we went and hid.

you she’ll always keep
and she never seems leave
nowhere to run to anyhow

knowing that she’s there
and always in your care
moon time ain’t that far away

and there is no
turning back from here

always so confused
loving with a view
that's what she means to you
  
you're both almost there
arriving at the tear
time to walk away and find a new

and there is no
turning back from here

they're watching us talking
just like observing ants work
there's helium in their ego
and lipstick on the mirror
they're idle to the agreed
arranged to the disorganised
they've planned the route already
just like in an ants farm
there's welcomes at the hallways
smirks at the poor
they've drowned millions of us already
and we're only on the first floor

everyone thinks you're pretty
but we've seen you naked.
we've seen you make love and we've seen you start war.
sometime this afternoon, you put us in your uniform,
everyone thinks you're pretty
but we've seen your dances.
you'd rather us deep fried
than vaguely alive.
everyone thinks you're pretty
but i've seen your violin playing.
you play it with no strings on
you live with no clothes on.
everyone thinks you're pretty
but we've seen you naked