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the bedroom philosopher - i'm so postmodern lyrics

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i’m so postmodern that i just don’t talk anymore, i wear different coloured t-shirts according to my mood

i’m so postmodern that i work from home as a surf life saving consumer hotline

i’m so postmodern all my clothes are made out of sleeping bags, i don’t need pockets, i’m a pocket myself

i’m so postmodern i go to parties i’m not invited to and locate the vegemite and write my name on everyone

i’m so postmodern that i write reviews for funerals, and heckle at weddings from inside a suitcase

i’m so postmodern i’m going to adopt a child, and teach him how to knit, and call him adolf diggler

i’m so postmodern that i break dance in waiting rooms, play yahtzee in nightclubs, at three in the afternoon

i’m so postmodern i only go on dates that last thirteen minutes, via walky talky, while hiding under the bed

i’m so postmodern i invite strangers to my house, and put on a slide show of other people’s nans

i’m so postmodern i went home and typed up everything you said and printed it out in wingdings and gave it back to you

i’m so postmodern i held an art exhibition – a chuppa chup stuck to a swimming cap, and no one was invited

i’m so postmodern i make alphabet soup, and dye it purple, and pour it on the lawn

i’m so postmodern i request hey mona on karaoke, then sing my life story to the tune of my sharona

i’m so postmodern i only think in palindromic haikus – “madam, i, glenelg, i’m adam!”

i’m so postmodern that i sit down to wee, and stand up to poo, at job interviews

i’m so postmodern that i dress up as santa, in the middle of august, and haunt golf courses

i’m so postmodern that i cut off all my hair, and knitted it into a beanie, and threw it off a bridge

i’m so postmodern that i stole everyone’s mail, and cut them up into a ransom note and hid it in a thermos

i’m so postmodern i take my lego to the supermarket and build my own shopping trolley, and only buy one nut

i’m so postmodern i wrote a letter to the council – .i think it was ‘m.’

i’m so postmodern i bought a round the world plane ticket, and stuffed my clothes with eggplant and pretended it was me

i’m so postmodern i’ve got a tattoo of my pin number in hieroglyphics on my neighbour’s guide
dog

i’m so postmodern i fought my way into parliament and made a law banning nuttelex, and then moved to spain

i’m so postmodern that i iron all my lettuce leaves, put my shirts in the crisper – they’re real crisp

i’m so postmodern i give live mice to buskers, dirty tea towels to the mormons, and pavlova to crabs

i’m so postmodern that i live in a tent, on a platform of skateboards that’s tied to a tram

i’m so postmodern i write four thousand-word essays on the cultural significance of party pies

i’m so postmodern i recite shakespeare at kfc drive thru, through a megaphone, in sign language

i’m so postmodern i’m going to watch the olympics on a black & white tv, with the sound down

i’m so postmodern i go to the gym after hours, push up against the door, then cry myself to sleep

i’m so postmodern i wrote a trilogy of novels from the perspective of a possum that jesus patted once

i’m so postmodern that i marry all my friends, soak myself in metho, and tell them that they’ve changed

i’m so postmodern i bought every book written in 1963 as a reading challenge, and clogged up a waterslide

i’m so postmodern i think i might be a god in my undies rolling in sugar, in the carpark of a rodeo

i’m so postmodern i prerecorded this song, and laced a message subliminally telling shane porteous to buy a smock

- the bedroom philosopher lyrics

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