| The cunt with the gut and the Buzz Lightyear haircut
|
| Callin' all the workers plebs
|
| You better think about the future
|
| You better think about your neck
|
| You better think about the shit hairdo you got mate
|
| I work my dreams off for two bits of ravioli
|
| And a warm bottle of Smirnoff
|
| Under a manager that doesn’t have a fuckin' clue
|
| Do you want me to tell you what I think about you, Cunt?
|
| I don’t think that’s a very good idea-do you?
|
| You pockmarked four-eyed shit-fitted shirt, white Converse
|
| And a taste for young girls
|
| Don’t send me home with a glint in my eye
|
| I told my family about the fuckin' wage rise
|
| And got fucked on
|
| Devoured
|
| Puked on
|
| And sucked up
|
| You fuckin' fly
|
| The suction on your fly feet
|
| Kept me pinned to the blinds
|
| Whilst your PA rattled out e-mails
|
| Workstation, forced to engage in flirtatious conversation
|
| Fizzy
|
| Fizzy
|
| Fizzy
|
| Well just to keep the job
|
| Just to keep fuck all from turning into a fuckin' nothin' blob
|
| Bang it out; |
| go on tell me what you really think
|
| You got no chin; |
| an' you got no balls to chin 'em with
|
| Glass panels separate you
|
| The mid-price handwash from the bin of used
|
| Public toilet paper towels
|
| We’ve run foul of the hidden hatred
|
| That festers in dogs like you
|
| Tripwire taut that makes way for the vacuum
|
| Ya piece of fuckin' shit
|
| My name:
|
| Fizzy
|
| Fizzy
|
| Fizzy
|
| Use the sheet of promise and the red shoes of Dorothy
|
| Blanked out on the bed of thick monotony
|
| With the usual stereotypes that fall for the lip
|
| I fuckin' hate rockers; |
| fuck your rocker shit
|
| Fuck your progressive side, sleeve of tattoos
|
| Oompa Loompa blow me down with a feather
|
| Cloak and dagger bollocks
|
| Fizzy
|
| Fizzy
|
| Fizzy
|
| Ahhhh! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Jolly Fucker, artist - Sleaford Mods. Album song All That Glue, in the genre Панк