Avant Gardener Lyrics & Chords By Courtney Barnett

I sleep in late, another day;
Oh, what a wonder, oh, what a waste.
It's a monday, it's so mundane;
What exciting things, will happen today?

The yard is full of hard rubbish it's a mess,
and I guess the neighbours must think we run a meth lab.
We should ammend that; I pull the sheets back;
It's 40 degrees, and I feel like I'm dying.

Life's getting hard in here, so I do some gardening;
Anything to take my mind away from where it's s'posed to be.
The nice lady next door talks of green beds,
and all the nice things that she wants to plant in them.
I wanna grow tomatoes on the front steps;
Sunflowers, bean sprouts, sweet corn and radishes.
I feel pro-active, I pull out weeds;
All of a sudden, I'm having trouble breathing in.

I'm having trouble breathing in.
I'm having trouble breathing in.
I'm having trouble breathing in.

My hands are shaky, my knees are weak;
I can't seem to stand on my own two feet.
I'm breathing, but I'm wheezing;
Feel like i'm emphysem-in',
My throat feels like a funnel,
filled with wheat bix and kerosene, and,
Oh no, next thing I know, They call up triple A.
I'd rather die than owe the hospital 'til I get old.

I get adrenaline, straight to the heart.
I feel like Uma Thurman, post-overdosing kick start.
Reminds me of the time when I was really sick,
and I had too much pseudo-ephedrine,
and I couldn't sleep at night.

Halfway down high street, Andy looks ambivalent;
He's probably wondering what I'm doing getting in an ambulance.
The paramedic thinks I'm clever 'cause I play guitar;
I think she's clever 'cause she stops people dying.
Anaphylactic and super-hypochondriac-tic;
Should've stayed in bed today, I much prefer the mundane.
I take a hit from an asthma puffer.
I do it wrong; I was never good at smoking bongs.

I'm not that good at breathing in.
I'm not that good at breathing in.
I'm not that good at breathing in.