Sleaford Mods - Armitage Shanks lyrics

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Sleaford Mods - Armitage Shanks lyrics

[No I have no ambition to continue on in that field But i couldn't care less I just get off what i do And i do it very well Thank you, i know This is why i'm not tolerated I can't be bothered to tell a lie There has been something as revolutionary Than the Sex pistols: the ongoing force of ME And this is something you cannot forget] Toilet, Toilet I was wa*king her off the other day And she's pulling a really strange face These things happen in situations like this So I carried on Made her cum all over the place Then she tells me, that she was imagining me to be a complete stranger Well thanks a f**ing lot, nice one, lovely Next time then darling I'll tip up to yours, wearing a mask and postmans uniform Leave the door unlocked Just bend over And I'll shove it up your arse Throw a few letters on the floor Just for added effect Bob's your uncle theres your random s** Seven knackered fridges dumped on a piece of wasteland Next to a house thats burning bridges, with all its neighbours Twenty-five kids sharing two rooms, ASDA Smart Price The bus stop's a youth club Soveriegn cigarettes and mushrooms Well what are you saying bro? Would you like a drink? I'll go I hear you're the toast of the town Can I kiss your arsehole? You don't tell my bird you wanna f** her You f**ing leave it Michael You don't say nothing Sexual encounters like that take a while Shes gotta get her head round the fact that you're a fat ba*tard with ginger hair That's no offence to people with ginger hair But I wouldn't want it I'm sick of being talked down to By desperate blokes in maharishi smoke pants That sh** went down in Scaramanga We salute you! Well what are you saying bro? Would you like a drink? I'll go I hear you're the toast of the town Can I kiss your arsehole? Another do I've been invited to that many do's over the last six months By people who didn't want to know me eight months ago Makes you sick I wouldn't mind But 98% of the music in this city is f**ing sh** Armitage shanks, a toilet f**ing culture And if you're not getting your arse shagged Then you're the phanton bummer You've heard it all before You're gonna hear it all again Well what do you think I'm gonna sing about My endless love? You f**ing freak I'd rather die in the gutter darling forget about it What you do man? When you're on your last legs And you ain't got a plan Your sheets are all covered in blood stains Bruises on your thighs Shagging the right bird Your beds surrounded by beer cans And empty chisel bags Knangled by your teeth trying to get at the f**ing rock that's melting underneath I'm a vampire I've got homemade fangs I make Shane Macgowan look like cross between Joe Collins and Karl Lagerfield With his fan Messy f**er, messy f**er That stained your life It's upstated mine I've got oil on my ladder It's on there all the time {​​What about Wayne Fontana? he did it..}​​ Living off your wits is just a toilet seat