you were just a whole that lacked passion
i fancy the hip rock ‘n roll scenester.
i wanna be fucked and then rolled over,
’cause i’m an independant woman of the twenty-first century;
no time for nits, i want sex and abortuary.
i read glamour, and the guardian.
i like flowers, and i’m hardian.
i take cocaine.
i don’t give a fuck about her, i want your name.
i can get fucked like the best of men; like the best of men,
like the worst of pain, inflicted on another young girl again;
impressed by another guitar hero;
he’s a top score and you’re a zero – you’re outta your league,
there ain’t no rubber on the tracks; it’s gravel
you fall hard, cut quick and it’s an std; a cut knee
you’re a side of stage grasp, a laugh, an after-show party in a bath.
fucked and expected to be fucked, a gasp from an uninformed intruder,
the crowd go wild and things get ruder,
they’re already out of hand and there’s no one here to take your hand;
it’s a cold shower and a scramble for a dirty pair ‘o knickers,
don’t get yours mixed up with hers.
now get outta bed, get out, get out, get, get outta bed
get up, get down and get undressed ’cause that’s what you do best;
strip, strip, strip and shag, fuck get fucked and drag
and be impressed by the better sex
take a piece of raw vegetable,
and hold it to your breast and say that you stood for nothing.
you were just a whole that lacked passion,
another undignified product of society,
that girl shoulda been a mansion.