IMR: Extras: Scraps: "One Week"

"One Week," by Barenaked Ladies
"Stunt"/Reprise Records

It's been one week since you looked at me,
cocked your head to the side and said, "I'm angry."
Five days since you laughed at me,
saying, "Get that together, come back and see me."
Three days since the living room,
I realized it's all my fault but couldn't tell you.
Yesterday you'd forgiven me,
but it'll still be two days till I say "I'm sorry."

Hold it now and watch the hoodwink,
as I make you stop, think,
you'll think you're looking at Aquaman.
I summon fish to the dish,
although I like the Chalet Swiss,
I like the sushi 'cause it's never touched a frying pan.
Hot like wasabi when I bust rhymes,
big like LeAnn rhymes,
because I'm all about value.
Bert Kaempfert's got the mad hits,
you try to match wits,
you try to hold me but I bust through.
Gonna make a break and take a fake.
I'd like a stinkin' achin' shake,
I like vanilla it's the finest of the flavours.
Gotta see the show, 'cause then you'll know
the vertigo is gonna grow,
'cause it's so dangerous you'll have to sign a waiver.

How can I help it if I think you're funny when you're mad.
Tryin' hard not to smile though I feel bad.
I'm the kinda guy who laughs at a funeral.
Can't understand what I mean? Well you soon will.
I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve.
I have a history of takin' off my shirt.

It's been one week since you looked at me,
threw your arms in the air and said "You're crazy!"
five days since you tackled me,
I've still got the rug burns on both my knees.
It's been three days since the afternoon
you realized it's not my fault; not a moment too soon.
Yesterday you'd forgiven me,
and now I sit back and wait till you say you're sorry.

Chickety China, the Chinese chicken.
Have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin'.
Watchin' X Files with no lights on,
We're dans la maison, I hope the smoking man's in this one.
Like Harrison Ford I'm getting frantic,
Like Sting I'm Tantric,
Like Snickers guaranteed to satisfy.
Like Kurosawa I make mad films.
Okay I don't make films,
but if I did they'd have a samurai.
Gonna get a set a' better clubs,
gonna find the kind with tiny nubs,
just so my irons aren't always flying off the backswing.
Gotta get in tune with Sailor Moon,
'cause that cartoon's has got the boom anime babes
that make me think the wrong thing.

How can I help it if I think you're funny when you're mad.
Tryin' hard not to smile though I feel bad.
I'm the kinda guy who laughs at a funeral.
Can't understand what I mean? (Well) you soon will.
I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve.
I have a history of losing my shirt.

It's been one week since you looked at me,
dropped your arms to your sides and said, "I'm sorry."
Five days since I laughed at you,
and said, "You just did just what I though you were gonna do."
Three days since the living room,
we realized we're both to blame but what could we do?
Yesterday you just smiled at me,
'cause it will still be two days till we say we're sorry.

It will still be two days till we say we're sorry.
It will still be two days till we say we're sorry.
Birchmount Stadium, home of the Robbie.


Music and lyrics by Ed Robertson
© 1997 Trent Baker Music SOCAN/WB Music Corp. ASCAP


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© Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: ozawa@hawaii.edu · Created: 27 June 1998 · Last Modified: 23 August 1998