Strapping Young Lad - Happy Camper lyrics

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Strapping Young Lad - Happy Camper lyrics

You pretentious f**ing losers You've got nothing at all You've got your fingers in your a**hole And your hand on the call And you talk such f**ing horsesh** That it's hard to believe That you almost make careers out of being naive You, you are a f**er coz you sold my guitar You, you are a f**er, seeking fortune in bars You, you are a f**er, coz you say such stupid sh** I've got a better line in pocket lint Than what you've done with it So if you are an a**hole who pretends to be a friend Then get your a** in music, you'll be set to the end, ending, And now you've got the nerve to ask me about my temper? Why yes, I have become a f**ing happy camper! I hate your f**ing faces and your trendy cut hair, I hate the fact you think your job will go anywhere Because it's use is just the same as what I sh** into the bowl Just like the mess between your ears is like the mess in my hole I hate your loser friends who only come out when it's right I hate that when it's down you run instead of fight I'm set to think you lot in life to test the stronger ones Will just require some chicken sh** and also sneakers for the run. I dig it away, the sh** you puked instead of swallowed, In an attempt to try and find the dick instead of the load, So when you move and stand aside my mood will hamper, And yes, I will become a f**ing happy camper! Stuck in endless winter with your press to keep you sane Wait for useless numbers to grow useful once again Where the heat will come again, your flaw grows sick, Your flaw will send, the sh** you call your business To the place that is your end Stuck in the winter, cold and wet, Your stupid friends have come and went And you've left behind your idiot job, And it's far from a prize, you f**ing dink ...your'e a f**ing dink... yeah! ...how's this for punk? dink!!! ...s** my co*k, you pathetic excuse for a human being... You're a neurotic, h*mophobic, racist dork... you've also got a lot Of balls to dick with someone else's life, you f**ing pseudo ghetto "boy in the hood" middle cla** white spoiled rotten bored "gangsta" Wanna-be hunk of regenerated red neck bullsh**! thank christ you don't Have to rely on that staggering intellect or dynamic personality to Intimidate others, sh** for brains. shut the f** up, and get out of Your parent's house and get a real job, you putz, and for god's sake, Quit being such a f**ing sheep!!! now grow the hell up!!!... dink. I let it get me down because you're in it for the glory And I'd rather leave with reason than go dying for a story And this whole l.a. rock thing That the malls are buying up It doesn't work, it doesn't work, It's so inbred I might throw up... And now I'm put into the middle With the contracts and the bunk, and I always end up Hearing "hey, man, punk... let's have more punk!" So here I am to do a favour, save some ha**le kiss and tell, That either way my music's sh** and it ain't ever going to sell So if you've got the gall to take this sh** blown up your a** And youv'e got the cash and balls to pump the same crap out in ma** Then hell, I'll stand aside and with your plans I'll never tamper I'll sit and write you songs and be a f**ing happy camper. Yeah, send me out a contract and in clauses you will lurk The smaller points so I can give it all and save you work You say an album's not an album without issues left to hamper... Well then, f**, ...I guess I am a f**ing ...happy ...f**ing ...camper.