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Pack It Up

You guys are the pits of the world!

Oh, this is no place for me

Burnin' down the interbelt, from jacuzzi to jacuzzi

It's all right for you man

Gettin' smashed, gettin' suntanned

But I know my place

Where's my suitcase?

Pack it up or throw it away

What I can't carry, bury

Oh you remember me, I remember you

But that was a long, long time ago

When I was passin' through

All my family, all my friends, my lover

I got to find them

My enemies, my new family, my new friends

My future enemies, I got to flush them out

Pack it all up, nothing goes in storage

I'm burnin' every bridge

Burn, baby, burn

I see your dog got shot

Well, hell, never mind

That's show biz, big boy

You've got to be cruel to be kind

Oh, give over and admit it

I've been tearing down the interstate

Like some kind of bleeding cat

It's all right for the boss

His gain's my loss

That gets me down, it really gets me down

So pack it up and cut the crap

When the clock starts talkin', I start walkin'

When you pass in your Porsche

Please don't offer me a ride

I may be a skunk

But you're a piece of junk, and furthermore

I don't like your trousers

Your appalling taste in women

And what about your mind

Your insipid record collection

That dumb home video center

The usual pornography

And all you scumbags around the world

You're the pits of the world!

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written by Honeyman-Scott, James / Hynde, Christine Ellen

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

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