*Early Days*

*TITLE FIGHT: HEART V MIND*

There's a good chance that before we met,
There were days I'd walked right past her
But now I'm seeing her tomorrow or maybe the day after
I have to tell myself to slow down, it's early days still
Anything can happen and it probably will
It's early days
My mind's just put on boxing gloves, my heart's refused to fight it
I watch the station pass me by where I should have alighted
Could this turn into something I'll be writing home about?
The inspector shakes his head and says "so you just forgot to get out?"
It's early days
She's got a face just like an angel, what does she see in me?
Why does my stomach feel like it's just eaten food that don't agree?
It's early days
It's early days
It's still early days
It's early days


*BETA LOSERS*
The warranty expiry date has been and gone and no-one even noticed
But all our friends were there when you broke down
Since when did our relationship become obsolete?
I'm sorry if thought that the equation would always be: you plus me
Now I feel like I've been dumped but I've been superceded.
You were the pride of every loungeroom once
But now you've found out that you're worth nothing
That you're worth nothing
Now each of my arguments you laugh at
But it's still a superior format
I might only have five videos to choose from
But I can still tape off TV
Now I feel like I've been dumped
I feel like I've been dumped
What's the difference between dumped and superceded?

*DON'T WANT TO PAY*

The doors to the cinema
Are open for the taking
Like a cat on a mouse 
I'm ready to pounce
Before my nerve starts breaking

And if I'm caught by the ticket collector
I promise I will always respect her
She might be feeling like her job
Is like that out of date ticket stub

And I get a thrill
I just take on seat that Hollywood couldn't fill
Because I don't want to pay
No, I don't want to pay
When there's no-one on the door
You won't see me anymore
Because I don't want to pay

It's not an exercise in saving money
I don't do it to impress my friends
I do it to start that thing in my heart
That fills me with adrenalin
Cause I'm a rebel without that ticket
Yeah, I'm a matinee mutineer
How can you know what I'm searching for
Till you feel that post-sneak euphoria  

And I get a thrill
If only for the want of time to kill
Because I don't want to pay
No, I don't want to pay
When there's no one on the door you won't see me anymore
Because I don't want to pay
No I don't want to pay

It's not the size of your budget
But what you do with it that counts

*SHE CUTS HAIR*

She works across the river from my house
I work at getting to know her
Over the bridge to the lonely town
To walk it's not that far
Some days I make it my mission to drive right passed her salon
I prefer to worship her from a car
I am going to the Jeans West acid-wash sale
Because I know that she'll be there
She cuts hair, she cuts hair
And acid-wash is what she like to wear when she cuts hair

Dreamin' 'bout the places we would go
It'd be like I won the lotto
I would have tickets on myself
If I offered my love and kisses
Would she come at me with her scissors?
Love's declaration could be bad for my health
A mutual friend tells me: "Aww, she won't go for you Daz!"
But I say, I couldn't care
She cuts hair, she cuts hair
You can almost taste the peroxide in the air
When she cuts hair

And all I've got to show
Is a five dollar photo from the night club window

The sun is shining as I open my door
The neighbours wave as they water their lawns
I had to tell her, I knew it was time
I'd go to the salon and there I would wait for her lunch hour
She wouldn't be late
My mouth went dry as I practiced my lines
As the town-hall clock struck three, I delivered my soliloquy
She wouldn't give the time of day to me 
But she gave my pride short back and sides
Short back and sides
She gave my pride a short back and sides
Short back and sides, short back and sides
Now when I pass her way, I'll always try and hide

*MAGAZINE THEORY*

I hate all my clothes; they're all falling apart
Does the colour of my shirt match the colour of my heart?
When was the last time you checked your machine?
And I'm wondering will you ever get the message?

Our stars say that we were never meant to be
Maybe we shouldn't rely on magazine theory

Try as you may, try as I might
We squint our eyes under the red(?) Disco Light
I'm gonna buy some new clothes
My room I'll rearrange
But I'd have to be blind to see things haven't changed
Like the boy and his bags by the side of the road
All the time in the world but nowhere to go


*VIDEO STORE*

Well they met at Business College
She made a ledger of his heart
He never knew how good it felt
Until they pushed their desks together
He added up the minutes they spent walking to her car
To know how much time wasted he didn't need his calculator

Then at the Graduation Party 
On the final day of class
He probably drank a lot more cheap champagne 
Then he intended
But the cake was almost taken,
The hors-d'oevres were fading fast
And they were handing out certificates
To all those who attended
And as they leaned out on the window sill
He said "You've got fantastic people skills,
And I've a flair for accounting
We've got the rest of our lives at our disposal
So I hope you'll please consider
My following proposal:

Let's move out to the country 
And we'll open up a video store

So she chose a wedding ring and then together they chose a town
The diamond in the desert, his fortune around her finger
Business names and colour schemes became points contended
And in quiet times his idea for a jingle he would sing her
Crowd for which they were hoping arrived at the grand opening
And in their hands they waved their vouchers
They locked both the doors at the end of the day's trading 
And they held hands behind the counter as on the town the sun was fading

Yeah they moved out to the country and they opened up a video store
And he would always look to the quiet times 
When the tapes were all returned
And they could sit back together relax and just rewind

And it seems that now the profits paid a hair salon on Saturday
And the race track meeting on a Sunday
All perms must fall, she was starting to get lazy
And he shopped at the local Men's Land 
'Cause the prices were always crazy

Yeah they moved out to the country
And they opened up a video store

*FALLING AEROPLANES*

The boy threw his guitar down and starting beating his brow
No matter how hard he tried he couldn't justify
All the wasted time spent inventing words and rhyme
As the stars and the planets and the clock did lapse

You see, making up songs is for losers
I should build something she uses
Like a box or a bed or cupboards or shelves
The songs are made of air, they can't be any use to her
Better off trying to catch falling aeroplanes

Yep.

Then girl said : "boy, don't be so stupid
Boy, don't be so daft
You're not even right by a half
Although you say your songs are fundamentally air
There's also thousands of vibrations that stimulate the ear
In such a way that whenever I hear them
They always make me smile
They're just as tactile
As a box or a bed or cupboards or shelves
So boy now stop your mopin'
Your cursin' and no-hopin'
And get back in the saddle."

While she was still speakin'
Towards his fear (?) he's reachin'
Where lay his guitar
His head was swimmin' in an alphabet
Soup letters swirled
And words formed in his heart

He said:
"I'm gonna build this song for us
With four verses and a chorus
On real estate your words inpired
And there we'll live rent-free
Sleep on beds of melody
And leave the key change with the seasons"

And so that song he built was hers
With a chorus and four verse
And she woke to find him finally asleep