Sitting in the office
Holding a pen erect on the table
Pressed firm between my fingers
With wet ink towards the ceiling
And I'm about ten seconds
From head butting the **nt
Can I get overtime then?
With my head nailed to the counter
Would productivity even dip?
One less staff room conversation
About work or interior design
Or tales from a half alive H.R. man
His draught beer festival weekend
And his weather complaints
And his back and his knees ache
I swear I'm turning impotent just listening
Can I get overtime then?
With my head nailed to the counter
Would productivity even dip?
Reminds me of an article
About some Alpert-era hippy
Who figured he'd achieve
A higher consciousness if he
Drilled a hole in his skull
Trepanning for gold
And staring at the ink spot
I wonder if this is what he meant?
The Hanging Bandits - Trepanning for Gold Lyrics
The Hanging Bandits - Trepanning for Gold Lyrics
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Sitting in the office
Holding a pen erect on the table
Pressed firm between my fingers
With wet ink towards the ceiling
And I'm about ten seconds
From head butting the **nt
Can I get overtime then?
With my head nailed to the counter
Would productivity even dip?
One less staff room conversation
About work or interior design
Or tales from a half alive H.R. man
His draught beer festival weekend
And his weather complaints
And his back and his knees ache
I swear I'm turning impotent just listening
Can I get overtime then?
With my head nailed to the counter
Would productivity even dip?
Reminds me of an article
About some Alpert-era hippy
Who figured he'd achieve
A higher consciousness if he
Drilled a hole in his skull
Trepanning for gold
And staring at the ink spot
I wonder if this is what he meant?
Holding a pen erect on the table
Pressed firm between my fingers
With wet ink towards the ceiling
And I'm about ten seconds
From head butting the **nt
Can I get overtime then?
With my head nailed to the counter
Would productivity even dip?
One less staff room conversation
About work or interior design
Or tales from a half alive H.R. man
His draught beer festival weekend
And his weather complaints
And his back and his knees ache
I swear I'm turning impotent just listening
Can I get overtime then?
With my head nailed to the counter
Would productivity even dip?
Reminds me of an article
About some Alpert-era hippy
Who figured he'd achieve
A higher consciousness if he
Drilled a hole in his skull
Trepanning for gold
And staring at the ink spot
I wonder if this is what he meant?
Writer: Alexander Laurance, Andrew Fletcher, Santiago Wais, Thomas Saxby-Farncombe
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Performed By: The Hanging Bandits
Language: English
Length: 2:46
Written by: Alexander Laurance, Andrew Fletcher, Santiago Wais, Thomas Saxby-Farncombe