It's Just Not Funny Anymore

de Scary Bitches

You achieved your emission, moved to the seaside
After only six months, your husband died
In a tree-lined street full of frozen rows
Of nineteen-fifties bungalows

Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)
Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)

In a ten-room box made of tiles and bricks
You don't really live, you just exist
Someone, somewhere must be taking the piss
'cause there can't be anything worse than this

Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)
Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)

Nobody seems to notice you
And nobody really cares
But at least when you're living in a bungalow
You don't have to hoover the stairs

Bungalowland
Where the old people go
Just how you got there
You really don't know
You got a picture of a child that used to be you
Then you wake up one morning and you're ninety-two

In bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)
Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)

No one will ever know you were on this earth
No stone with your date of death and birth
The cemetery's full so when you expire
It's down the crematorium and into the fire

Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)
Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)
Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland (we're just existing)
Bungalowland (this is not living)
Bungalowland
We're just existing in bungalowland

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