I have a little house 
Close to town, but not to the city 
Far from home, but near my family 
No water views, but so close to the sea 
I see 
This is how my little life could be... 

And I'm filling it with things 
Like furniture I find on the street 
And all the special things I'd like to eat 
Pictures of people that I'd like to meet 
I'll meet them when I'm orbiting the world... 

...And it's so pretty... 
...And so lonely... 

My lovely love affairs 
Are all scheduled ‘round the TV guide 
And my  life has all been plagiarised 
In an attempt to meet a harsh deadline... 

I'd like to rent-a-wife 
Then rent a husband to keep her for life 
The three of us, we could be so happy 
(Them with each other, me [bad word]  
I'll see them off on a flight around the world... 

...And it's so pretty... 
...And so lonely... 

...And at my funeral 
they will say "Tom, he was such a nice guy, 
He went too early, but he went in style." 
They'll play my music and then they will cry 

They'll have a little wake 
They'll drink bad wine and they'll eat lemon cake 
And my mother's little heart will break 
And she'll say: 
"Wait! There must be some mistake 
- he can't be dead 
Take me instead!!!" 

Oh, but I'm not dead 
They tell me I'm not dead 
They say that I'm not dead 
And I won't die for some time... 

I'm in my little house 
Just writing little songs to pass the time 
Which (incidentally) is precisely nine 
So don't you worry, [bad word] fine 
I'm fine 
I am just so [bad word] fine