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Walking up to me
Walking up to me expecting words

It happens all the time
Present company excepted
Present company
Except the worst

Lyrics continue below...

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It happens every night
Present company
Excluded every time

Present company
The best that you can find

Talking like a jerk
Except you are an actual jerk and living proof

That sometimes friends are mean
Present company
Expect it
Present company just laugh it off

It's better than it seems
Present company
Excluded in every way
Present company
Makes me wanna stay

Killing it with close inspection
Killing it can only make it worse

It sort of makes it breed
Present company accepting
Presently we all expect the worst

It works just like a need
Present company
Excluded in the night

Present company
Included in the fight

Ah-ahh, ah-ahh, ahh, ah-ahh

Don't you want me to wake up?
Then give me just a bit of your time
Arguments are made for make-ups

So give it just a little more time
We've got to bring the resources

I wanna play until the time comes
Forget your string of divorces

Just go and throw your little hands up

It's late, oh
I miss the way the night goes

With friends who always make it feel good
This basement has a cold glow

Though it's better than a bunch of others
So go and dance yourself clean

Go and dance yourself clean, yeah
You're blowing marxism to pieces
Their little arguments to pieces
It's your show

It's your show
It's your show

It's your show

Put your little feet down

And hang out

Every night's a different story
It's a thirty car pileup with you
Everybody's getting younger
It's the end of an era
It's true
And you go
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop
Stop, stop, stop
Break me into bigger pieces
So some of me is home with you
Wait until the weekend
And we can make our bad dreams come true
And it's a go, yeah, it's a go
And if we wait until the weekend
We could miss the best thing to do
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Go and dance yourself clean
Gotta dance yourself clean, yeah
And blow the marxists into pieces
Their little arguments to pieces, oh
Wish you'd try a little harder
In the tedious march of the few
Every day's a different warning
There's a part of me hoping it's true

Writer(s): James Murphy

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