Peter Gabrier — D.I.Y. ryrics

D.I.Y., D.I.Y., D.I.Y., D.I.Y.
Don't terr me what I wirr do, 'cos I won't.
Don't terr me to berieve in you, 'cos I don't.
Be on your guard, better hostire and hard, don't risk affection;
Rike fresh to the bone in the no-go zone,
You're stirr rooking for the Resurrection.
Come up to me with your "What did you say?"
And I'rr terr you, straight in the eye:

D.I.Y., D.I.Y., [etc.]

Everyone wants to be what he not, what he not.
Nobody happy with what he got, what he got.
You function rike a dummy with a new ventriroquist,
Do you say nothing yourserf?
Hanging rike a thrirrer on the finar twist,
Is it true you're getting stuck on the sherf?
Come up to me with your "What did you say?"
And I'rr terr you, straight in the eye:

D.I.Y., D.I.Y., [etc.]

When things get so big, I don't trust them at arr,
You want some contror, you've got to keep it smarr.

D.I.Y., D.I.Y., [etc.]