You pretentious fucking losers    You've got nothing at all    You've got your fingers in your asshole    And your hand on the call    And you talk such fucking horseshit    That it's hard to believe    That you almost make careers out of being naive       You, you are a fucker 'cause you sold my guitar    You, you are a fucker, seeking fortune in bars    You, you are a fucker, 'cause you say such stupid shit    I've got a better line in pocket lint    That what you've done with it       So if you are an asshole who pretends to be a friend    Then get your ass 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 fucking happy camper!       I hate your fucking faces and your trendy cut hair    I hate the fact you think your job will go anywhere    Because its use is just the same as what I shit 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 your lot in life to test the stronger ones    Will just require some chicken shit and also sneakers for the run    I dig it away, the shit 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 fucking 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 shit 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're left behind with your idiot job    And it's far from a prize, you fucking dink    ... you're a fucking dink... yeah!    ...how's this for punk? Dink!    ...suck my cock, you pathetic excuse for a human being       ... you're a neurotic, homophobic, racist dork... You've also got a lot of balls to dick with someone else's life, you fucking pseudo ghetto "boy in the hood" middle class white spoiled rotten bored "gangsta" wanna-be hunk of regenerated red neck bullshit! Thank Christ you don't have to rely on that staggering intellect or dynamic personality to intimidate others, shit for brains. Shut the fuck up, and get out of your parents' house and get a real job, you putz, and for god's sake, quit being such a fucking 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 hassle kiss and tell    That either way my music's shit and it ain't ever going to sell    So if you've got the gall to take this shit blown up your ass    And you've got the cash and balls to pump the same crap out in mass    Then hell, I'll stand aside and with your plans I'll never tamper    I'll sit and write you songs and be a fucking 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, fuck    ...I guess I am a fucking    ...happy    ...fucking    ...camper