Lyrics Post: “One Week”

“One Week” by the Barenaked Ladies

Those whacky Canadians, that’s what I thought when I first heard this song. Then I thought, AWESOME. And I still think that’s the case all these years later.

“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 back together come back and save 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 ’til 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 Rimes

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 stinking aching shake

I like vanilla, it’s the finest of the flavours

Gotta see the show, ’cause then you’ll know

That 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

Trying hard not to smile though I feel bad

I’m the kind of 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 taking 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 ’til you say you’re sorry

Chickity China the Chinese chicken

You 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 back-swing

Gotta get in tune with Sailor Moon

‘Cause that cartoon 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 kind of guy who laughs at a funeral

Can’t understand what I mean?

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 thought 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’ll still be two days ’til we say we’re sorry

It’ll still be two days ’til we say we’re sorry

It’ll still be two days ’til we say “Wasabi”

Birchmount Stadium, home of the Robbie

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