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letra de uk summer - sans beanstalk

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football shirt to a festival
dark fruit is my favourite vegetable
failed chem got a sling full of chemicals
you’re at the dance tent i’m at the medical

so sunburnt lookin like a lobster
mullet so heavy that it’s bad for my posture
moanin about what a 99 costs us
way too warm like my pint of fosters

ryanair flight it’s just a tenner each
me n my girl mallorca or tenerife
she’s on insta emoji it’s the peach
breakfast a full english and then the beach

we’re on the balcony, she’s amazed
instead of walkеrs they sell lays
fanta lemon? yеs please
i wish they sold a fanta chinese

fly home, straight to the park now
tops off cos it’s only a dark cloud
cop a fab, and imma start now
but a pigeon took it, i let my guard down

head to the bandstand,wanna hear the brassband
they’re not there – just a cracked doing a handstands
drinking frosty jacks by the litre
and 6 chavs with an iphone speaker
town centre, im on a bender
kids getting kicked from a shopping centre
mums on the c-cktails, big spenders
no g&t’s left marks and spencers

sun cream is for w-nkers, geezer
avoid plants cos imma big sneezer
skin cancer, hay fever
that’s banter, i’ll take either

creamfields, boomtown… either way i’m gonna do ket
buy what i can, see what i get
i guess malaria won’t be a threat

pub garden that’s where i dash to
past the sweaty fella dressed as a statue
didn’t wanna get an england tattoo
but i had to – on my chest, yes

front garden in a vest, blessed
lads pure gym for the chest press
las iguanas girls impressed, yes
wetherspoons midday sesh, mess
raid jd next to next, flex
white shirt with a nike tech
tied round my neck
who knows what next
might get kicked out of thorpe park
(please stop vaping in the queue for colossus)

stuck in that motorway traffic
ran out of zingers at the service tragic
no aux in my mums whip classic
wanted radio 2 but we settled on magic

the brown sea is the least of my perils
breaking my spine on a beach of pebbles
electric scooters, no pedals
nerds with detectors looking for metals
sports day dads and they’re moaning ‘bout medals
partic-p-tion? you’re soft like petals

c-cktail in the bin
stella on my chin
spurs on my shin
stella battering the gin
might take the mower for a spin
no world cup but we’re still gonna win

now halfords have sold out of astro
smuggling f-gs back lookin like castro
skipping on the burgers don’t need the gastro
i’m sweet enough with the pints i’ve amassed though
another summer in the uk
sweating bucket hats under the duvet
when your mum says put me in your suitcase
say you’d probably die in transit

- sans beanstalk

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