Addicted
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It suits you to go running 'round like that
But we don't salute you 'cause you're not our kind of cat
And something must be burning your hand
Gotta get thee to a quack
And never refuse advice
Of someone who'd break their back for you
Their back for you
And it suits you, just like predicted
You hate the feeling
Even though you're addicted, addicted
It suits you to come banging on my door
I ain't gonna answer for fear of the floor
A letter they're downing for you
From the back of a rat
Dead for two cats
Advice from the cat
And it suits you, just like predicted
You hate the feeling
Even though you're addicted, addicted
Yeah yeah yeah, oh
Yeah yeah yeah yeah, oh
Still it suits you, just like predicted
You hate the feeling
You hate the feeling
Oh oh oh oh
It suits you
It suits you
You hate the feeling
You hate the feeling
I hate the feeling
I hate the feeling
Yeah
Yeah