Lyrics Reasons Not to Be an Idiot - Frank Turner

You're not as messed up as you think you are
Your self-absorption makes you messier.
Just settle down and you would feel a whole lot better.
Deep down you're just like everybody else.
She's not as pretty as she thinks she is
Just picture her after she's had kids.
I bet she sits at home and listens to The Smiths.
Deep down she's just like everybody else.

So why are you sat at home?
You're not designed to be alone.
You just got used to saying No.
So get up, get down and get outside.
Because it's a lovely sunny day,
And you hide yourself away.
You've only got yourself to blame.

Get Up, Get down and get outside.

He's not as clever as he likes to think
He's just ambitious with his arguing.
He's crap at dancing,
And he can't hold his drink.
Deep down he's just like everybody else.
I'm not as awesome as this song makes out-

I'm angry, underweight and sketching out.

I'm building bonfires of my vanities and doubts to get warm.
Just like everybody else.

So why are you sat at home?
You're not designed to be alone.

You just got used to saying No.

So get up, get down and get outside.
Because it's a lovely sunny day,

And you hide yourself away.
You've only got yourself to blame.
Get Up, Get down and get outside.

Amy thinks her life is lacking in drama.
So she fell for horoscopes, faith-healing and Karma.

She's so wrapped up in her invisible armour
She'll never grow into herself.

And it's ok thinking me and all my friends are just wasters.
But all the same I can still see through her airs and graces.
I guess she's scared her life won't leave any traces.

Kind of like everyone else.
And that's not the point anyways.
Oh darling,
I felt compelled to call you up to say:

So why are you sat at home?
You're not designed to be alone.
You just got used to saying No.
So get up, get down and get outside.
Because it's a lovely sunny day,
And you hide yourself away.
You've only got yourself to blame.
Get Up, Get down and get outside.
Get Up, Get down and get outside.
Get Up, Get down and get outside.
Get Up, Get down and get outside.
Get Up, Get down and get outside.
Get Up, Get down and get outside.

...

I keep having dreams
Of pioneers and pirate ships and bob dylan
Of people wrapped up tight in the thing that'll kill them
Of being trapped in a lift plunging straight to the bottom
Of open seas and ways of life we've forgotten
I keep having dreams
Amy worked in a bar in exeter
I went back to her house and i slept beside her
She woke up screaming in the middle of the night
Terrified of her own insides
Dreams of pirate ships and Patty Hearst
Breaking through a life over-rehearsed
She can't remember which came first
The house, the home or the terrible thirst
She keeps having dreams
And on the worst days
When it feels like life weighs ten thousand tons
She's got her cowboy boots and car keys on the bed stand
So she can always run
She can get up and shower in half an hour
She'd be gone
I keep having dreams of things i need to do
Of waking up and of following through
But it feels like i haven't slept at all
When i wake to her silence and she's facing the wall
Posters of Dylan and Hemmingway
An antique compass for a sailor's escape
She says "You just can't live this way"
And i close my eyes and i never say
I'm still having dreams
And on the worst days
When it feels like life weighs ten thousand tons
I sleep with my passport
One eye on the backdoor
So i can always run
I could get up, shower and in half an hour
I'd be gone
And come morning
I am disappeared
Just an imprint
On the bed sheets
I'm by the roadside
With my thumb out
A car pulls up
And Bob's driving
So i climb in
We don't say a word
As we pull off
Into the sunrise
And these rivers
Of tarmac
Are like arteries
Across the country
We are blood cells
Alive in
The blood stream
Of the beating heart of the country
We are electric
Pulses
In the pathways
Of the sleeping soul of the country
We are electric
Pulses
In the pathway
Of the sleeping soul of the country
(We are electric)

...

God dammit Amy, we're not kids any more
You can't just keep waltzing out of my life
Leaving clothes on my bedroom floor
Like nothing really matters, like pain doesn't hurt
You should be more to me by now than just heartbreak in a short skirt
You kind of remind me of scars on my arms that I made when I was a kid
With a disassembled disposable razor I stole from my dad
When I thought that suffering was something profound
That weighed down on wise heads
And not just something to be avoided
Something normal people dread
God dammit Amy, well of course I've changed
With all the things I've done and the places I've been
I'd be a machine if I had stayed the same
But you're still back where we started, you haven't changed at all
You're still trying to live like a kid, like you can always have it all
You know you kind of remind me of scars on my arms that I hid as best I could
That I covered with ink, but in the right kind of light they still bleed through
Showing that there are some things I just can't change no matter what I do
The tell-tale signs of being used
Of being trapped inside of you
You're a beautiful butterfly
Burned with a branding iron
Onto my outsides into my insides
As a simple sign
To show off your ownership
Burned into my naked skin
Onto my outsides into my insides
It's not even love any more
It's just a claim upon my soul
It stains my skin, yeah it's on my breath
And I'm ashamed to get undressed
In front of strangers in case they see
The tell tale signs that you have left all over me
God dammit Amy
You'll always remind me of scars on my arms that I know will never fade
And it's not like it's something I think about each and every day -
I just occasionally catch myself scratching them, as if they'd ever go away
But these tell tale signs are here to stay, and in the end you know that's OK
You will always be a part of my patched-up patchwork taped-up tape-deck heart