Counters

We're not numbers We're not numbers anymore We're the counters We're not numbers anymore We're not numbers We're not numbers anymore We're the counters We're the counters It seems that all the milk's gone sour And I can't believe my eyes I drank to put me out of my misery cruel to be kind The sweat has dried into my shirt and I tried to bite my tongue I know you think that I am joking around you've got that wrong, wrong, wrong Sitting in the front seat Turning on the motor Sucking on the hose pipe Keep it turning over It seems that everything's gone wrong Since you entered my life For me to stay here would be a bad idea And thats not so nice, nice, nice Sitting in the front seat Turning on the motor Sucking on the hose pipe Keep it turning over Keep it turning over