Hold these beers. I gotta drive.

by Beaman

/

lyrics

The months at an end. The rent's short again.
I'm flat broke with nothing to show.
While some Dick on TV with less talent than me
is renting out three of his homes.

And No, I just can't win
Again and again it's the same thing
Brainwashed by the mainstream
And No, I won't give in
Into the show

So much to drink, but I still think that I've got full control of my brain
Cos I manage to eat, throughout the week.
Pockets heavy and filled up with change.
But, I'm getting tired. Stressed bout' getting fired for under ten dollars an hour.
When life gives you lemons and you're without sugar your face will be left looking sour

Your dream is a fat joke. Built up to burn in record time.
We'll all be laughing while you're waiting in the back at the end of the Punch Line.
And if you decide you're sick of living on your knees wiping cum out your eyes
You may begin to see the light and gain a little perspective.

Then maybe you'll see, that your American Idols are as real to me
as the Easter Bunny fucking Mrs. Claus outside in an Orgy.
Then maybe you'll see, that your American Idols are as real to me
as a Tooth Fairy going broke, as a Grumpy Cat getting stoked or me winning first place on your favorite singing show.

credits

released 10 December 2014

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