Wet Hot American Bummer

Thanks! I Hate It

Compositor: Thanks! I Hate It

I asked him to book a show
I was hoping that he knows
That he's my new dad now, so I won't have to say it out loud
He works there to pay the rent
He doesn't care about my band
It's all that emo shit, he says we'll all just cut our wrists

We'll end up bleeding on the bar
And then he'll have to clean it up
Tim I know your job is tough
But I'm your bar son show some love

I'm your bar son show some love

We're not as punk as you'd prefer
We're not as cool as Circle Jerks
But if you'd help me spread the word
You'll get the tips that you deserve

You'll get the tips that you deserve

You told her to go alone
I was crying on the phone
I got a new band now, and I dare you to count us out

While you were working on yourself
I was looking for some shelter and a little help
A little help

While you were picking at my bones
I found somewhere to call my home
To call home

I asked Tim to book a show
I was hoping that he knows
That he's my new dad now, so I don't have to say it out loud
He works there to pay the rent
He doesn't care about my band
It's all that emo shit, he says we'll all just cut our wrists

He says we'll all just cut our wrists

©2003- 2024 lyrics.com.br · Aviso Legal · Política de Privacidade · Fale Conosco desenvolvido por Studio Sol Comunicação Digital