 This is a song about dickheads, it goes like this
It's called sorry lads
Yeah, I met this bloke today, he looked at me in a very strange way
I said nothing, I smiled politely, he st-st-stuttered over words he was trying to say
He gave me the evil eye, revealed the fangs behind his smile
Oh my, a yellow grin never shone so wicked
I wondered what is his problem?
Is it my stupid hat or my annoying accent?
I know that some people feel that way
But this guy did not even give me chance
I thought nothing of it but then the same thing happened to me the very next weekend
What could it be?
Yeah, and I thought it was going well
But all these guys have got their eyes on my girl
Thought it was going swell
But the awkwardness of talking to these pricks is hell
I suppose you can never tell
To discover all their dark secrets, well, oh well
I've got news for you, my son
I ain't going anywhere
I ain't going anywhere
I met this prick today, he laughed at me silently
It seems there's quite a lot of these bitter people, thick as treacle
Why don't you get it into your thick skull that the hole in your heart will have to be filled elsewhere?
If it's even still worth filling
I know that you think that you've had it hard but we've all got problems, fickle problems to deal with
There any problems?
And problems always solutions, easy
Easy come, easy go, same old songs at a different show is all I know or so you think
Yeah, and I thought it was going well
But all these guys have got their eyes on my girl
Thought it was going swell
But the awkwardness of talking to these pricks is hell
I suppose you can never tell
To discover all their dark secrets, well, oh well
I've got news for you, my son
I ain't going anywhere
I ain't going anywhere
I ain't going anywhere
I ain't going anywhere
Bitter boys, the feeling will dry
He's waiting for nothing on their own
Building up meaningless resentment for something they can't understand
My sympathy for your apathy, crybaby, maybe you will learn
Whiskey won't save you now, chasing a fairytale, bless your tortured soul
Bless your tortured soul with muddy puddle water
Thought it was going well
But all these guys have got their eyes on my girl
Thought it was going swell
But the awkwardness of talking to these pricks is hell
I suppose you can never tell
To discover all their dark secrets, well, oh well
I've got news for you, my son
I ain't going anywhere
I ain't going anywhere
Ain't going anywhere
Ain't going anywhere
I'm sorry, lads
I'm sorry, lads
I ain't going anywhere
Thank you
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