Staff to the Refund Counter

God gave me consciousness, but he never mentioned why
What's the use in living long if we're all condemned to die?
Humbled in hospitals, I have seen the bitter end
Everybody will die alone, deserted by their friends
I want it back
Yeah, I want it back

Bleak springs of greying skies, dead grass and twisted trees
Each year advancing like some insidious disease
Decaying year on year, dear God, there's no respite
One final lonely breath and then just endless night
I want it back

I want my money back, I want my money back
I want it back, I want my money back
I want my money back, I want it back
I want my money back, I want my money back
I want it back, I want my money back
I want my money back, I want it back

This isn't what we asked for, it isn't what we wanted
I'm trying to be grateful, but I'm a little disappointed
It doesn't match the picture, a picture from the catalogue
And underneath the birch trees, I can't get started
Who do I need to speak to about this?

Post-coital cigarettes laced with a tired disgust
A broken contraceptive, conception unjust
Another suckling babe, another four score years
Another lifetime for some sucker stuck right here
So I want it back

I want my money back, I want my money back
I want it back, I want my money back
I want my money back, I want it back
I want my money back, I want my money back
I want it back, I want my money back
I want my money back, I want it back

Stop to the refiller counter, please!
I have a cashed my receipt!
Stop to the refiller counter, please!
I have a cashed my fucking receipt!