So what's it to you? You're down another 8 ball I haven't even got a cue And you look dreadful When you jump to what you'll resort to Singing, "Chance, we ain't gonna hurt you" When there's fuck-all-else to do You could eat the foam from the headrest You could knock the wind out of my breath You could kick the teeth into my head There's no cause for concern So what's it to you? You're down another 8 ball I haven't even got a cue And you look dreadful When you jump to what you'll resort to Singing, "Chance, we ain't gonna hurt you" When there's fuck-all-else to do You could eat the foam from the headrest I said there's no cause for— You could knock the wind out of my breath I said there's no cause for— And you could kick the teeth into my head Still, there's no cause for concern We ain't gonna hurt you We ain't gonna hurt you We ain't gonna hurt you 'Cause when there's fuck-all-else to do We could eat the foam from the headrest I said there's no cause for— You could suck the wind out of my breath I said there's no cause for— And you could kiss the teeth into my head And still, there's no cause for concern I said there's no cause for concern