You pretentious f*****g losers
You've got nothing at all
You've got your fingers in your a*****e
And your hand on the
And you talk such f*****g horseshit
That it's hard to believe
That you almost make careers out of being naive
you are a f****r coz you sold my guitar
You, you are a f****r, seeking fortune in bars
You, you are a f****r, coz you say such
I've got a better line in pocket lint
Than what you've done with it
So if you are an a*****e who pretends to
be a friend
Then get your a*s in music, you'll be set to the end, ending,
And now you've got the nerve to ask me about my
Why yes, I have become a f*****g happy camper!
I hate your f*****g faces and your trendy cut hair,
I hate the fact
you think your job will go anywhere
Because it's use is just the same as what I s**t into the bowl
Just like the mess between your
ears is like the mess in my hole
I hate your loser friends who only come out when it's right
I hate that when it's down you run
instead of fight
I'm set to think you lot in life to test the stronger ones
Will just require some chicken s**t and also sneakers
for the run.
I dig it away, the s**t you puked instead of swallowed,
In an attempt to try and find the dick instead of the
So when you move and stand aside my mood will hamper,
And yes, I will become a f*****g happy camper!
Stuck in endless
winter with your press to keep you sane
Wait for useless numbers to grow useful once again
Where the heat will come again, your
flaw grows sick,
Your flaw will send, the s**t you call your business
To the place that is your end
Stuck in the winter,
cold and wet,
Your stupid friends have come and went
And you've left behind your idiot job,
And it's far from a prize, you
...your'e a f*****g dink... yeah!
...how's this for punk? dink!!!
...suck my cock, you pathetic excuse for a
You're a neurotic, homophobic, racist dork... you've also got a lot
Of balls to dick with someone else's life, you
f*****g pseudo ghetto
"boy in the hood" middle class white spoiled rotten bored "gangsta"
Wanna-be hunk of regenerated red neck
bullshit! thank christ you don't
Have to rely on that staggering intellect or dynamic personality to
Intimidate others, s**t for
brains. shut the f**k up, and get out of
Your parent's house and get a real job, you putz, and for god's sake,
Quit being such a
f*****g sheep!!! now grow the hell up!!!... dink.
I let it get me down because you're in it for the glory
And I'd rather leave
with reason than go dying for a story
And this whole l.a. rock thing
That the malls are buying up
It doesn't work, it doesn't
It's so inbred I might throw up...
And now I'm put into the middle
With the contracts and the bunk, and I always
Hearing "hey, man, punk... let's have more punk!"
So here I am to do a favour, save some hassle kiss and tell,
either way my music's s**t and it ain't ever going to sell
So if you've got the gall to take this s**t blown up your a*s
youv'e got the cash and balls to pump the same crap out in mass
Then hell, I'll stand aside and with your plans I'll never
I'll sit and write you songs and be a f*****g happy camper.
Yeah, send me out a contract and in clauses you will
The smaller points so I can give it all and save you work
You say an album's not an album without issues left to
Well then, f**k,
...I guess I am a f*****g