We know that we could sell your magazines, if only you would give your life to literature just
DON'T READ JANE EYRE
Work on your algebra, stand out in the rain and give yourself to simple pleasures but
NEVER PLAY CARD GAMES
Meanwhile, back at home, not in Communist Russia, well only on my headphones, we plot our march onto the town hall, and if we'd take prisoners or simply simper at those fools

Please don't tell me to do the math

Tonight we're gonna smash this place up and then we're gonna deck it out with fairy lights so
WE ARE CONTENT
And then we'll maybe drown in Dewey decimal, but leave our shoes off at the door ‘cause
THAT WAS THE POINT
Of us at home with the moon pouring through the curtains, working on our attitude towards the second hand book shop employees, reading the inscriptions that were never meant for their eyes

Please don't tell me to do the math

I'm stitching up each one of your pockets so when we are together you'll maybe look a little less bored, I'm sticking your fingers into sockets, to kick-start your little heart and maybe sleep a tiny bit more
Oh maybe we should read more into the books that we adore, perhaps we should drink less vitamin C, and now I'm shouting out in capital letters “I WILL THROW YOU HIGH FIVES IF YOU KEEP YOUR OWN SECRETS!!”