Haven't Got a Clue

Oh, what Right What's up? One, two, three, four You haven't got a clue And you don't know what to do You used your money and your friends To try and trick me But you won't trick me As far as I can tell You've created your own hell And now you walk around this place expecting pity Every time you throw a fit I can't decide If you're full of it And every time you state you case The more I want to punch your face I go I still can't believe all your plastic surgeries And now it's everybody's problem That you're unhappy Oh come on Every time you state your case The more I'd like to punch your face Every time you state your case The more I want to punch your face And every time you state your case The more I want to punch your face I go --- Haven't Got a Clue - The Flaming Lips