What do you want from me you dick?
Do you want to make me chuck?
Do you want to make me sick?
It's no secret that you s**
Yeah your closed minded reservations
Just prove just prove to me you're weak
My suspicions and confirmed
Everytime you go and speak
And I struggle up and down
Just to pay the rent each week
Then I play a pop song cause I wanna
Some little rich a** freak
Tells me how his mate thinks that we've sold out
In their 40 dollar band t-shirt from america
No doubt you went and changed your puck rock style
You used to live for nofx
Now you are far too good for that
Once you even wore an x
You went a month without drinking
And put texta on your hands
Washed them off, went on a pub crawl
When you heard that drinking band
What do you want from me?