Lyrics:

I think you got the short end of the stick
I think they thought you're too much of a hick
I told them, that's part of your charm
that's what makes you such a gas
Oh, but they didn't buy it
They said you're way too short on class
Look, I'm doing my best for ya

You're shouting at the top
of your lungs again
Don't you know that's a middle class crime
Oh, you're losing control
of your tongue again
The cops are coming
and they're giving stiff fines away

I held a secretive meeting with Scott
He was acting like the usual snot that he is
He said the sight of your face makes him ill
and the sound of your voice
it always gives him the chills
Look, I'm doing my best for ya

But you're shouting at the top
of your lungs again
Should know better,
that's a middle class crime
You've been slipping off the tip
of your tongue again
They've gonna get us
They've been giving stiff fines all day

Let's make our getaway
our getaway

Whatever happened to the kid next door?
I never see him around anymore
But who could take it?
We were oh so mean
Say what?
Say now he's become a top ma
in the Merchant Marines
It's funny now they pay him to...

be shouting at the top of his lungs when
his men you know how they get out of line
Then he gets to lose control
of his tongue again
'cause he's the one
who is issuing fines these days

Let's make our getaway
our getaway
Make our getaway.