You
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh
I can take the plastic surgery I can take the man-of-fact to the moon and see
Snow's ain't the only thing that's not for real My hero moonwalks for cards and wheels
Cards, cards, cards and wheels
Imagine how I feel
Imagine how I feel
Imagine how I feel
When I live in Michael Jackson's to-be-your-self
You gotta wear green, June the 10th, you gotta love the Queen, Buck Snack, you gotta be one of the books, April the 1st, you gotta play practical jokes
You gotta be nice to all the books, 10th, read for free, you gotta have a spirit level on the easy
It's just a race, a journey of birthdays, love of highs, not a shiny wheel, I'm a one-ish year
Not a shiny wheel, I'm a one-ish year
Be like everyone else from the day that you were born
Live your life by the cover of a fridge
Die the day, pay off your mortgage
Lots of pieces of shit, whoa, whoa, whoa, open the paint and slick, whoa, whoa, whoa, lots of pieces of shit, whoa, whoa, whoa, gotta step in it, whoa, whoa, whoa
Not a shiny wheel, I'm a one-ish year
Not a shiny wheel, I'm a one-ish year
Gotta say when we get that start of grade
Be unhealthy, it's carcinogenic
The businessman, how come a killer wasn't a honey? Who gave his writer, critic and fan? Why don't people find rock bands funny?
That's a sin to read all about you
That's a sin to read all about you
Who invented the businessman? Who told blackers the meaning of love? Who gave his writer, critic and fan? Who told teenagers they gotta mind their own?
I'm going down to the water side, work his hotel, tear women's clothing and all, yeah
Here's a broken model boy, send me to hell, get life a spot, and it is all mine as well
Life kills, life kills, life's a sin to read all about you
Life's a sin to read all about you
Life's a sin to read all about you
Was it God or the devil? Tell me somebody
Who put Sophia Lee in Sophia Lee's body? Is it bitter or worse? I'll pay you some money
Is it bitter or worse when she tries to be funny?
Is it tourism tip? My TV set squeaking It surely could be English she's speaking
Who is who, dad, can you tell me soon? Who is the human, who is the cartoon?
It could have been creative, impossible I feel My hereditary is actually real
Who is who, dad, can you tell me soon? Who is who, dad, can you tell me soon?
Was it God or the devil? Tell me somebody
Who put Sophia Lee in Sophia Lee's body?
I know how to chew a tango I got a great idea for a song
I'm moving to the battle barrel of my own I can drool, I'm so steery wrong
I'm completing my classates I know where the sun and bad streets are All the deserts I could irrigate All the glory could emancipate
I'm free, when that starts, what more do they speak? I'll be trusted in apathy Apathy, apathy, apathy Apathy, apathy, apathy
I got the cure for all the old disease I can pay money for my dreams I know how to stop a terrorism I know what all the guys exist
But that's not what motivates me I'm interested in apathy Apathy, apathy Apathy, apathy, apathy
That's not what motivates me Apathy, apathy Apathy, apathy Apathy, apathy, apathy
Apathy, apathy Apathy, apathy Apathy, apathy Apathy, apathy Apathy, apathy, zap
At the last burst I've lost interest
Woo, woo, woo
My old man used to take me to the police
Now he speaks, he takes him
Being barricaded for the sight of
He's a no man to the police, you're real
When I sleep the week with him
The week we're having great contenders
And watching the rain gain
Another game of the real contenders
Oh hear the cry
Ring out from the rubble sky
Nothing can stop us
With my wind, my wind, with the locket
With my wind, my wind, with the locket
Woo, woo, woo
My old man, the kind-led bastard
That takes my pain
Barricaded for the sinners
Seated on hands and in cold anger rim
Sees the week with him
The week where the great contenders
He wants a reburring tomorrow
You've got my heart
When you've got the liver
For the God's sake
Don't drop it, yeah
With my wind, my wind, with the locket
With my wind, my wind, with the locket
Oh that'll be gone in ten season's time
And you know they can
Your rock that's set can't be cut down
To keep it from the end
Just so you know, they can use a flag
Who says the orders
It ain't a matter of life and death
It's more important
Here comes DJ
Tony's broken free
With my two lockets
With my wind, my wind, with the locket
With my wind, my wind, with the locket
With my wind, my wind, with the locket
With my wind, my wind, with the locket
You look like you're Seraphite
You look like you're Gigante
You look like André Gimécho
You look like Robert Sandler
You look like Robert Sandler
You look like Ronald Reagan
You look like Adolf Hitler
You look like George Shultz
You look like McGilliger Riemann
I'll have ya, I'll have ya, I'll have ya
You look like Abel Tesman
You look like Barney Rubble
You look like Gulliver Leany
If you're picking me, there'll be trouble
I'll have ya, I'll have ya, I'll have ya
I'll have ya, I'll have ya, I'll have ya
I'll have ya, I'll have ya
I'll have ya, I'll have ya
I'll have ya, I'll have ya
Don't get off the train in Richmond
Skims want your Doc Martens
Don't get off the train in Camberwell
Writers want your Ed Jordan
Don't get off the train in Aston and you get a take for the markers
Don't get off the train in Franks and you get a take for your markers
Don't get off the train
Don't get off the train in Colfield
Yodel Yowes want me to hose it
Don't get off the train in Caulfield
Git Boys want your copy of The Chosen
Don't get off the train in Buckley
Watch your rockers
Don't get off, don't get off, don't you get off
Don't get off the train
Don't get off the song on the
Skeeters want your rap
Don't get off the train in Noble Park
3174 want your bossy stans
Don't get off the train in Brooklyn
Berkies want your Louis Jahan
We don't get off the train in New York
Kiddleston want your rap
Don't get off, don't get off, don't you get off
Don't get off the train
Don't get off the song on the
Limeo PB's want your collusion
Don't get off, put to sleep
Nazi comes for the final solution
Don't get off, don't get off, don't you get off
Don't get off the train in the
Buckley City guys
Underneath the blankets are all the girls and boys
Racking, rolling, racking, whoa
Racking on riding out along the bay
All about the morning till many miles away
Racking, rolling, racking, whoa
Don't get off the train
Don't get off the train in New York
Don't get off the train in Brooklyn
Berkies want your pajama
Get an aeroplane
There's a lot going on for me
Don't get off the train
in Brooklyn
Every skater that I've ever met is a rat-faced fucking git
With their stupid Olly impossibles, their board slide over hip
There is a certain cocksure arrogance
Only a skateboard can give
They think the whole world's against them
Thank fucking Christ it is
And every crew member I've ever met seems to be a turd
How come it's only the illiterate that know every rapper's words
Cause up behind the shoulder sheds, black consciousness goes wrong
Malcolm X, he was from Run DMC
Martin Luther King was from a U2 song
And every teen fan I've ever met who claims not to believe the hype
Is a mix of self-righteousness and downright fucking tripe
You know, they say they really hate the stuff that comes out from their father
And then they turn round and they swallow whole the guff that's said about Nirvana
You know, every adult that I've ever met that says kids music alarms them
Forgets the most dangerous turd of all is Johnny fucking Farnham
You know, adult rock, it's a load of guff and to paraphrase the Jesuit
You give me the rock fan when young and I'll give you an adult idiot
So every kid dressed like Axl Rose, every 16 year old wanker
Underneath those rebel's clothes is a future merchant banker
And every jumped up little pratt wearing those workin' man shoes
In ten years time is the person that will be watchin' the Channel 10 News
I love a sunburnt country, a land of pouring rain
Where the only thing you cannot be is someone with a brain
Paul Keating, you know he could be wrong, that's not where he earned
How dare he just come along and call a turd a turd
It ain't just the fucking sheep, do the fucking bleating
Seventeen million Australians, only one Paul Keating now
The future, it's a road too long to ever really harass us
We'll drive past Paul Hitchhiker now, the freeway to Damascus
Look at the suit that he's got on, he probably drinks light
It's not that we knew he was wrong, but that he knew he was right
Paul's a man that's called a turd, and his soul is region
Seventeen million Australians, only one Paul Keating
Australia's soul is a swimming room, it's hot before Cortina
It needs an intellectual vacuum to take it to the cleaner
To do the job that's Paul's for mine, we're relies with luck
The day we wake up to find he had us all unoffered
That little black dog will give us all, world deserves this future
Seventeen million Australians, only one Paul Keating
Paul is dead, Paul is dead, Paul is dead, Paul is dead
Say you sons let us rejoice, for we are young and free
That means we've got the right to choice, give the arse to Paulie
Advance Australia fucking fair, this nation will follow
Forget about Paul, let's all be there to put blood on the fucking water
Let's have an election here and now, someone must be cheating
Seventeen million Australians, only one Paul Keating
Paul is dead, Paul is dead, Paul is dead, Paul is dead
Paul is dead, Paul is dead, Paul is dead
All is good, all is right, everything hot, all that's tight
Women, men, pubescent girls, never again to finger their curls on their heads
So exquisite, never again to visit the Palace of Loing
Forty years of living and death, that's all that's left
The work it is just beginning, as my hair begins to fade
Pleasure is past and all that's dear, has threatened and fall like disappeared
Never again to visit the Palace, the Palace of Loing
Forty years of living and death, that's all that's left
Yeah
Perfume, the smell of perfume is forgotten
The shape of a room, the sheets on a bed, disappear forever from my head
No more the sudden thrill as you dip into the swirl
Never again to visit the Palace of Loing
Forty years of living and death, that's all that's left
Forty years of living and death, that's all that's left
Forty years of living and death, that's all that's left
Yeah
I want vanilla, I want vanilla
Don't want no 50s rockabilly
I want vanilla
Don't want the flesh and mean old Billy
Don't want U.S. Golda up in New Hilly
Don't want no color, don't want no Delete
Don't want no dress with lace up Frilly
Don't want no Jack, don't want no Jilly
Don't want no chicken!
Don't want no oven, don't want no billy!
I want mille-famille!
Don't want no crying, over-milk silly!
Pass me those cans of beans, will you, Mo?
Pass me those cans of beans, will you, Mo?
Pass me those cans of beans, will you, Mo?
You also don't see what it means, you'll ask for it today
He's really keen to make that seems, but wasn't he saying?
Pass me those cans of beans, will you, Mo?
Pass me those cans of beans, William O.
Pass me those cans of beans, William O.
I want little Billy, I don't want little Lee, call Billy, Bo, Billy.
I want little Billy, I don't want to live back here up Billy.
I want little Billy, I don't want no virtual troll Billy.
I want little Billy, I don't want no jankless dude Billy.
I want little Billy, I don't want to listen to Bob Billy.
I want little Billy, I don't want to write no lyrics silly.
I want little Billy, OK you come up with something better fuckface.
Cause I can dance, cause I can dance, I'm sure I can dance, I'm sure I can dance, I can dance.
I'm really hit the floor, I feel good, love it every.
Ten, ten, ten, ten to your thought and lies.
While I, I, I, hold you between the eyes, I can smell, smell, smell, smell you from here.
Cause your plans, plans, plans are staying with me.
Ten, ten, ten, ten to your thought and lies.
While I, I, I, hold you between the eyes, I can smell, smell, smell you from here.
Cause your plans, plans, plans are staying with me.
I'm really hit the floor, I feel good, love it every.
And there I was, I was facing up to that year ten coordinator and he said to me,
You ain't got a uniform pass, you haven't got a late detention pass, you haven't got a, I've done my homework pass,
you haven't got an absent from school pass, you haven't got, you haven't seen your coordinator pass,
you haven't got, you haven't got your pass pass.
And I looked up to that teacher, I looked up to that coordinator and it said to me,
I said, I said, it don't matter cause I'm a rebel, I'm a rebel like Jimmy Dean, like Jimmy Morrison, like Jimi Hendrix, like Jimi, like Jimi.
And he said to me, it don't matter how big a rebel you are cause there is one rule, one law you've got to always obey.
And that rule is, if you're ugly, forget it.
Let's talk about the rules that govern everything. Let's talk about rock bands.
What sort of rock bands are the most popular? The good ones? No. Creative ones? No.
What sort of rock bands are the most popular? We're here to tell you.
What sort of rock bands are the most popular?
Tell me. The worst bands are most popular.
What sort of people make the most money? You know, I'm raising my children.
I'm sending them along to a good private school and I'm saying, when you grow up, take your litter and put it into a bin.
Are they going to make a lot of money? No.
What sort of people make the most money?
Tell me. Our souls make the most money.
Let's talk about Kieran Perkins. Let's talk about Sophie Lee.
Let's talk about Nick Barker.
What sort of people are famous?
What sort of people are famous?
Tell me.
Ansecutes, what's so famous?
Jesus Christ in heaven. Lord Jesus, I turn to religion.
Who do you know that believes in God? Every asshole that believes in God should fucking grow up.
Because there's only one sort of person that believes in religion.
What sort of person believes in religion?
Tell me. Lunatics embrace religion.
Okay, it's time to take it all down.
Get out your pen, get out your paper.
Take it all down. Take it all down. Take it all down.
Pen and paper, take it all down.
Are you ready? Take it down. Take it further down.
Take it up and take it down.
Ready from the top. Right from the top.
Tell me.
The worst bands are most popular. Our souls make the most money.
Ansecutes, what's so famous?
Lunatics embrace religion.
Incompetent people, incommetent people are the loudest.
Can you see that girl's immaculate shoulder?
Do you want to get your name on her folder?
Hope may spring eternal. You should not let it.
Heal the unspoken words. If you're ugly, forget it.
Can you see that girl?
The one you hate, the captain of the football.
You are the debating. You have the rest of your life with which to regret it.
Heal the unspoken words. If you're ugly, forget it.
Stands up, principle, the least genuine.
Government funding means people don't like it.
Well-read people don't know anything.
The avant-garde are deeply conservative.
Saving the world is a waste of resources.
Throw out what's useful and recycle your garbage.
Nothing happens to ambulance subscribers.
Round the world, round the world, if you're ugly, forget it.
Round the world, round the world, if you're ugly, forget it.
Round the world, round the world, if you're ugly, forget it.
Round the world, round the world, if you're ugly, forget it.
Round the world, round the world, if you're ugly, forget it.
Around the world, around the world, if you're ugly, forget it.
If you're ugly, forget it.
If you're ugly, forget it.
If you're ugly, forget it.
I've been working for 76 hours a week, and I hate every moment.
But I do it because somehow I like the pain.
I'm back in the head.
When I was the age of four, I fell in love with my sister.
I still have a strange attraction to women with faces like hers.
I'm back in the head.
Here's the official list of people who doesn't think I'm back in the head.
Everyone who played for us in the Olympics, every Australian Olympian was on drugs.
Gerard Berkman was on drugs. Lisa Jennings is a boy.
Every Olympic team is fucked.
I'm back in the head.
I'm back in the head.
I'm back in the head.
I'm back in the head.
I'm back in the head.
I don't want to live, I don't want to die.
I want to shoot heroin through the eyes.
I want it to shine, and I want it to rain.
I want to get hit by a freight train.
I'm back in the head.
I'm back in the head.
Someone better shoot me before it's too late.
I want to be impaled on a 50 foot stake.
I'll be you meters in the overload.
I think my e-water is going to explode.
I think I got Saturday night palsy.
My shit's funny as well.
I think I got Saturday night palsy.
Put it on, y'all.
No人交替 sala cro.
Where are you?
Well, I got a new Saturday night
Palsy, yeah, yeah
Sing your virgin thing
Got a brand new car
Got a new set of clothes
I want to pull my brains out, through my nose
Show me to the wheel, mon
Show me to the bar
I want to do a few, or two of that to five times
Big up a little bit on my posy
It's boring
Think I got Saturday night palsy
I'm sorry
One above a little bit on my posy
Yeah, yeah
Think I got Saturday night palsy
Do the celibate thing
Saturday night
Saturday night
Saturday night posy
Saturday night
Saturday night
Saturday night posy
I'm fattened by sex
Saturday night
Saturday night
Saturday night posy
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Saturday night
Saturday night
Saturday night posy
You know me, my baby, no couple like us
She's got a satra
We got a compass
We got a compass
I, I love her
Cause I hate the stinking bitch
She is like a train
Or a horse
I forget who whips
Group is a whole
She's got a satra
She's got a pooh
Group is a whole
She's got a satra
She's got a pooh
I, I'm the outsider
I break the law
But here's the tip
The book's a bore
The book's a bore
I'll take responsibility
For my innermost wishes
Oh, I'll be working
If I do the dishes
Won't do the dishes
Ooh, please don't
Ooh, please don't
She'll pull satra
She'll pull the pooh-wah
Ooh, please don't
She'll pull satra
She'll pull the pooh-wah
Ooh, please don't
Ooh, please don't
She'll pull satra
She'll pull the pooh-wah
Ooh, please don't
She'll pull satra
She'll pull the pooh-wah
Ooh, please don't
Ooh, please don't
She'll pull the pooh-wah
Protecting the children's race
Come on baby
Deprecate on my face
Come on baby, sit on down
Bend over brown and give me a brownish soul
Throw it in the wasp's old packs
Or hurry up, sleep or head move
You're the dead that's right
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Get to the bunker
Looks like a star
Turn off the TV
It's all one big lie
Here we go
We have ways
We have ways
Of making
You prove
Come on baby, sit on down
Bend over brown and give me a brownish soul
Throw it in the wasp's old packs
Or hurry up, sleep or head move
You're the dead that's right
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Deprecate on my face
Here come the Russians!
It's near the end, proud to say that my girl never used an S-Pen.
What's that evil?
Your power, it's on strike.
It's all over.
Come on, baby, sit it on down, get over bound and tell me about this trouble.
Deprecate on my face.
T-A-S-I-I-K, tootin' the radio, clicking in rhythm static.
Since it happened, being so fucking enigmatic, your T-S-I-I-K crashed his bullet holes up the clutch table.
I bet you my youngest daughter could drink him under the table.
T-S-I-I-K, T-S-I-I-K, T-S-I-I-K, T-S-I-I-K.
T-S-I-I-I-K lost his wallet when he went into town.
Served him right for a pound of ass with a lot of extra pounds.
T-S-I-I-I-K thinks he's famous, because he's a genius, but due to the warm ambivalence about the mindless, the cheap-ass.
T-S-I-I-K, T-S-I-I-K, T-S-I-I-K, T-S-I-I-K.
Hey girls, it's the way.
It's the code of behavior today.
Slam dancing is out.
I bet you know what it's all about.
We've come to tell you something, Mr. Allen.
We've come to tell you something.
You've been said, that is not what I mean.
That is not what I mean at all.
And you can say, oh I don't know what the fuck you want.
And you can say, oh I talk a lot of bullshit.
But there is one thing, one thing you should never do.
Don't you ever step on my blue suede shoes.
I want to be made of.
Cruisers, cruisers, cruisers.
Cut, cut, cut.
Slippers, slippers, slippers.
Cut, cut, cut.
Hacksaw, hacksaw, hacksaw.
Scrape, scrape, scrape.
Cut, cut, cut.
Cut, cut, cut.
One, two, three, four.
Touch, touch, touch.
Right, right, right.
Slutter, slutter, slutter.
Attack, attack, attack.
Cut, cut, cut.
One, two, three, four.
Cut, cut, cut.
Cut, cut, cut.
Took your Stimu Felix.
Took your Sheepsback.
Took you Tasmania.
Took you Big Mac.
I took the first.
Took your Skipper and Soda.
Took you the Underground.
Took you the Anticlatico.
Took you the Soda Truck.
You lost that first.
I drive a truck.
You fucking fool me girl.
Fuck you.
I drive a truck.
I drive a truck.
I drive a truck.
I drive a truck.
I drive a truck.