The F-Word

Wanna get low

Wanna get high

Glue’s in the bag

like the clouds in the sky

Sticks to the cider, sticks to your lips

Wanna get the spiders off my hips

Try and make out

when you don’t get kissed

You wanna get it up but

she broke you wrist

Dad’s got your arms

and mothers got your fists

Crossing off the kids on the Xmas list

The F-Word’s here

But the F-Word’s bad

Curse my mother

And curse my dad

But I love my mother

And I love my dad

Wanna have all that they never had

Wanna get high

Wanna get low

Girl’s got your bottle

and she won’t let go

So you grow up fast

You can’t slow down

Make another kid

with a bag for a crown

Mother’s in a car, dad’s at the door

Love’s got an applehead

bitten to the core

Plugged-up eyes

Sockets all raw

Try to plug the gap

but you wonder what for

The F-Word’s here

But the F-Word’s bad

Curse my mother

And curse my dad

But I love my mother

And I love my dad

Wanna have all that they never had