Playing House
He's walking slowly - he is in no hurry
He is walking to the slaughter of the hell that's called routine
She arises tried - she is feeding on the famine of the
Fat that's called the housewife
Making sure that it's all clean
This is the game called playing house
We're all screamin', no one's getting out
This is the game called playing house
He's starving for a surprise, she is aching for a sign
That things are not quite as simple
As they seemed to be designed
Give me complication, give me freezing in the heat
Give me some new kind of rhythm
Give me some new kind of beat
Don't give me the game called playing house
We're all screaming, no one's getting out
Don't give me the game called playing house
Playing house, Playing house
Destroy all that's creative - give routine a friendly face
Just give everyone a rhythm, just give everyone a place
That is the game that we've been told that we will play
And if we play ot long enough, it's bound to surely go away.
Jugando a la casa
Él camina lentamente - no tiene prisa
Va camino al matadero del infierno que llaman rutina
Ella se levanta cansada - se alimenta del hambre de la
Grasa que llaman ama de casa
Asegurándose de que todo esté limpio
Este es el juego llamado jugando a la casa
Todos estamos gritando, nadie sale
Este es el juego llamado jugando a la casa
Él está muriendo por una sorpresa, ella anhela una señal
De que las cosas no son tan simples
Como parecían estar diseñadas
Dame complicación, dame congelamiento en el calor
Dame algún tipo de ritmo nuevo
Dame algún tipo de golpe nuevo
No me des el juego llamado jugando a la casa
Todos estamos gritando, nadie sale
No me des el juego llamado jugando a la casa
Jugando a la casa, Jugando a la casa
Destruye todo lo creativo - dale a la rutina una cara amigable
Solo dale a todos un ritmo, solo dale a todos un lugar
Ese es el juego que nos han dicho que jugaremos
Y si lo jugamos lo suficiente, seguramente desaparecerá.
Escrita por: Martin Brett / Tracey Bryn