Lyrics

A simple song about a simple Man, a simple life following simple plans. In bed by dusk awake before the Dawn, in the darkness, the Wiley fox.. runs on.. run on

With order, he repeats, another day like yesterday. the mystery he keeps hidden behind his ginger mane, a private man, you know. his bedroom door is closed mysterious and cold. The wise stoic noble beast, it’s the way she goes, she goes she goes

Ah Stuey, the Wiley fox, cunning, sly and calculated.
His movements are slow, with a calm never agitated..
He likes the quiet he don’t say much. He doesn’t like his photo taken, no physical touch. I’m leaving with Douglas he’s becoming too much. Too much., too much for a Wiley Fox to manage, the chaos and carnage, where the fuck are the spoons? Where’s my coffee satchels? Look at all this overflowing garbage. I’m fucking sick of it yeah he’s had a gut full.” I’m fucking sick of it.,

that’s the way she goes, But deep down he’s sick of it.. oh yeah, he’s had a gut full. A fucking gut full. he’s fucking sick of it, sick of it..