| I got this no good, dead wood, motherfucking itch and i am going to hell
|
| They got this small pen, fat pig, 2 foot by one and it’s beginning to smell
|
| I got this low-brow, white trash smoking my tongue and i’m being kissed
|
| Like a kid
|
| They got this hi-fi, big sound bleeding my ears and i can’t get rid
|
| I got the life
|
| I never thought
|
| That i’d be born with
|
| But now i’m itching
|
| For you to scratch me
|
| Like all the records that your needle has worn
|
| I got a six-pack, big ship no deck kid who couldn’t write when he sung
|
| He took a mic in his hand like a prick on a rope and waited there to be swung
|
| They got this big light, white wash spot on his tan and watched it burning
|
| His skin
|
| And then the hi-fi, white trash smoking my ear
|
| Got his face kicked in
|
| I got the life
|
| I never thought
|
| That i’d be born with
|
| But now i’m itching
|
| For you to scratch me
|
| Like all the records that your needle has worn
|
| With the screen round my face, covered in light
|
| I will never go blind
|
| I got this cable satellite nibbling my eyes
|
| But i can’t switch off my mind
|
| I got this low-brow, white trash licking my skull
|
| And it feels so good
|
| It’s got this big pull, half-full little buzz
|
| That i’ve misunderstood
|
| I got the life
|
| I never thought
|
| That i’d be born with
|
| But now i’m itching
|
| For you to scratch me
|
| Like all the records that your needle has worn |