XTC - Washaway |
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Washaway
XTC Mother's in the kitchen steaming up the window panes Smell of boiling cabbage comes up from an open drain But no amount of scrubbing could ever shift a gravy stain Washaway washaway washerette No one feels exerted Streets lay deserted Washaway washaway every dirty stain you get Sat on their couches With loose change in their pouches They couldn't spend it if they tried In comes Mr Softee Ringing for his supper Dressed up like and ice cream cone Heading for a stately home But a thousand Yorkshire puddings Couldn't make his business boom To kill time in droves they squander See how they wander That feed on the mind, oh bother Money in centres It just gets you down Business as usual at the uptown launderette Washaway washaway washerette Washaway washaway the dirt Wash it Washaway the dirt |
