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I Am Not Allowed
Clare Bowditch and the Feeding Set

It doesn’t matter how beautiful you look
I am not allowed to read from strangers’ books
It doesn’t matter how much you hold back in bait
Still I’m not allowed. Nothing good could satiate

I’m not going to cry anymore
Flash “heart” like a road-works sign
Doesn’t matter how beautiful you look
I’m not allowed to read your book
And if it isn’t mine, nor it’s his to give
I want a life that doesn’t
Radio for help all of the time
Flash “heart” like a road-works sign

Doesn’t matter how beautiful you look
I am not allowed to open your strange book
It doesn’t matter how much you hold back in bait
Ah ah ah my friend. Nothing good could satiate

I don’t want a life that flashes out
For help like a road-works sign saying
“Pick me up”, saying “Pick me up now
I’m alone, alone, alone”. Saying “Pick me up”

It doesn’t matter how beautiful he looks
You’re not allowed to read his book
Doesn’t matter how well he lures his bait
This is no time to understate

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