I'm gonna lie on my back   An' you put your fingers down my mouth, right   No, no, do it right, like, augh ugh   I'm gonna do a Jimi Hendrix, eugh   I'm gonna be sick in my sleep, eugh, augh ahu ugh      I tries to do it proper but it kept comin' up a cropper   I needs some hype, I think I'll ram raid happy shopper   Haven't got a car so I use a space hopper   Bouncin' to the window, cut my head, show stopper      I want a hundred fans, 200 teeny boppers   I want police protection from 87 coppers   I wanna go gold, even better platinum   If you wanna be a star you gotta kill yourself, man      It's the truth, step back, take a look around   Elvis is dead for bein' fat, 500 pound   Kurt Cobain's rich as fuck, he's buried in the ground   Jimi Hendrix an' his amp still ain't makin' no sound      Michael Hutchence, he's one of 'em too   Made a hundred million quid dying wanking on the loo   S.U.I.C.I.D.E.   It might be messy but it's money for free      Suicide is painless or so it has been said   I could've killed myself but I'd be better off dead   So I took a deep breath, put a gun against my head   Pulled the trigger, click, should've been eatin' lead      But I wasn't, I was naked in John Frost Square   Mothers on pushchairs stopped an' stared   For this situation I was quite unprepared   Tried suicide to be famous but nobody cared      Committin' suicide to enhance my career   It worked for Mickey an' Tupac Shakir   Jesus was nailed up to some wood   2000 years later an' book sales are still good      I heard in a song suicide is painless   An' it's 80 percent sure to make you famous   Wankin' with a bag on yer head, tied to a door   That bloke from INXS, he knew the score      S.U.I.C.I.D.E.   It might be messy but it's money for free   S.U.I.C.I.D.E.   It might be messy but it's money for free      I gotta kill myself, I gotta do's it quick   John Entwistle sly, he was snortin' arsenic   I keep takin' all this coke to make me die   Doin' more drugs than they make in fuckin' ICI      It's the best way to go, don't think me dull   I'm not gonna fall off the roof like the flid Rod Hull   We want people to sing all our songs   And the nuns at St. Joseph's rappin' on smokin' bongs      We wanna be remembered when we're six feet under   For hip hoppin' not robbings, fuckin' beatings or plunder   At the moment I'm not dead like David Kampasey   Double platinum means you gotta be pushin' up daisies      Dad's army's all dead, every last one   But the cunts is still goin' on BBC1   Yeah, that's right, I smoke draw from Wales   Suicide's a good idea to improve vinyl sales      It's useless, it's crap, I'll never be in the sun   How can I be a pop star when I can't buy a gun?   Jimmy Morrison overdosed in the bath   I know, I'll hang myself with my scarf      Tied to the stairs, danglin' by my neck   The cord length I forgot to check   Stuck there for a week, unable to shriek   The landlord found me an' he called me a freak      He cut me down an' started to laugh   "If you're dead next week gimme your autograph"   You know I thanked him, returned to my room   The new plan is to go out with a boom      To the station, with a petrol can   "Five pound please", I say to the man   All set up an' ready to burn   The wheel on my lighter just won't turn      Suicide is a suicyclebbl   Suicide is a suicyclebbl   Suicide is a suicyclebbl   I wanna be famous after I die      Proven fact, man, if you're dead you sell more   That drummer from Def Leppard   His arm has made 30 times more than he has      You know that our Elvis? Well, he's dead famous now   And he's dead and he's face, he's more famous now like   He's dead like you know, I, I suppose what a lot like   Fuckin' simple economics      They reckon Bob Marley's dead   But he's not, man   'Coz he was on the TV last night, man   Just don't lie to me, man      I thought I was havin' a go at an overdose   But I, I, I don't think you can overdose on Beecham's Flu Plus   I think one of the blokes off of Dad's army is still alive   I think he's bummin' Martin in Eastenders, innit?      I'll get the ropes an' we'll tie them to the walls   An' we all jump off at the same time an' break our necks   An' we'll make at least 13 quid an' you knows we'll be famous   like fuckin' Gandhi or, or like the bloke off that sex film we seen