| Look, here comes another man
|
| With another sorry story to tell
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| And you can bet he’ll tell me all about
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| The time he fell from Heaven to Hell
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| Well, I don’t wanna listen but he tells me all the same
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| from his life’s little games
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| Leave me alone, you’re not a dog, I’m not a bone
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| But you’re gonna bury me with your total misery
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| And when I’m out on Saturday with Charlie and Bill
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| I know for a while I shouldn’t, I don’t know if I will or I won’t
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| If I do or I don’t 'cause nothing is for definite and nothing is for sure
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| I am getting desperate as I am getting poor
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| All the fucked up fuck ups fucking me up
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| With their stories and their tears and their cigarettes and beers
|
| All the fucked up fuck ups fucking me up
|
| I think they’re killing me with their grim reality
|
| Look, here comes another drunk
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| With a face longer than Bin Laden’s
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| And he has drunk so much alcohol
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| He can no longer get a hard-on
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| Not that he’ll ever get a chance to use it
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| Women are intelligent, he is stupid
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| Lost and lonely he will remain
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| No amount of alcohol will wash his misery away
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| And when I’m out on Saturday with Charlie and Bill
|
| I know for a while I shouldn’t, I don’t know if I will or I won’t
|
| Will I do or I don’t 'cause nothing is for definite and nothing is for sure
|
| All the fucked up fuck ups fucking me up
|
| With their stories and their tears and their cigarettes and beers
|
| All the fucked up fuck ups fucking me up
|
| I think they’re killing me with their grim reality
|
| Well, a thirty-three year old grandma
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| Comes up to me and says
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| «My family’s gonna take over this council estate
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| If we keep on giving birth at this rate»
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| «I'm gonna be a great-great-great-grandma
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| By the age of seventy-five
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| And I will be clad in fake Burberry, I don’t care if I’m dead or alive
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| I don’t care if I’m dead or alive»
|
| All the fucked up fuck ups fucking me up
|
| With their stories and their tears and their cigarettes and beers
|
| All the fucked up fuck ups fucking me up
|
| I think they’re killing me with their grim reality
|
| All the fucked up fuck ups fucking me up
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| If your live is going wrong, you’d better sing along
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| All the fucked up fuck ups fucking me up
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| You fucked up fuck ups |