Powerless, with my talk of Guy Debord and Gide To rival a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog I sent you to Antarctica, I'm very sorry now I sensed that I could only mean a thing to you If I could somehow be a lapdog too But to send you to Antarctica to face your certain death Was a very, very heartless thing to do
You're wearing your pink flip flops You tell me in your letter You like the friendly crunch they make On the snow, even though there's horrible weather You've brought your lapdog with you It pokes its head out of your coat The animal looks undeniably cute With a little bark rising up in its throat
But penguins won't stop following you They march in a long black line It's menacing and sinister And soon it will be night-time
And the Situationists loom very small indeed Alongside a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog Perhaps if they loomed smaller they'd be cute enough to love And maybe someday I could mean something to you If I could somehow be a lapdog too So do people flirt and laugh, are they photographing you? If there were anybody there I'm sure they would do But the last time you looked down to pat your lapdog's tiny head Its little eyes were frozen, it was dead
And penguins won't stop following you They march in a long black line It's menacing and sinister And soon it will be night-time
The Situationists and me loom very small indeed Alongside a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog Perhaps if we were dumb and small enough We'd become worthy of your love