Pity you You're telling me you've got a problem A nervous sort of contraction A mindless kind of reaction You never get no satisfaction Here's to you I know you really got a problem A nasty kind of reflection A dangerous sort of destruction That makes it difficult Makes it hard to reach Takes it all away From what you had in mind Yeah yeah yeah A nervous kind of distraction A nasty sort of contraction But there's some big fat point That you seem to be missing And it's driving you to destruction But it doesn't seem To stop you in the least Or halt this obsession got you Going on back Week after week Day after day Hour after hour From where you came For more of the same
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