I am not a neat boy
And my stuff I like to hold
Locked in storage - my resistance
To my parents' constant grumbles
And my promises -
All lies, I guess
Still my mum hears what she wants to hear
And gets it off her chest.

Then I left my home and family -
An apartment of my own,
Oh how limited the space was!
Couldn't find the room to stash my trinkets -
Rather scarce,
And although
'Twas a deal for poorer quarters,
I had nowhere else to go.
Can't afford the space where
All my things could go.

Why w-why, Why w-why why , why w-why
Why w-why,
Why w-why why , why w-why, w-w-w-w-why?

Spending all my workman's wages
On an "antique" cuckoo clock,
Or some other clobber
That I found in several stores on Seventh Avenue.
I do declare!
There were times when my collecting
Almost saw me staying there.
La la la la la la la

[Instrumental]

Why w-why, etc

Now I'm throwing out my daggy clothes
T'the Salvos they have gone.
They have gone
With the "Michael Crawford, Live in Concert" DVD
D-V-Deee oooh, they have gone.

So I'm clearing out my boxes,
Sorting out the mess I've made -
Tossing out each grim reminder
Of every time I've gone to town,
Been sucked in by a hawker
(To my own eternal shame).
So I'm cleaning, yes I'm cleaning,
But the boxes still remain.

Why why why ... etc