a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de happy camper - strapping young lad


you pretentious f-cking losers
you’ve got nothing at all
you’ve got your fingers in your -sshole
and your hand on the call
and you talk such f-cking horsesh-t
that it’s hard to believe
that you almost make careers out of being naive

you, you are a f-cker ’cause you sold my guitar
you, you are a f-cker, seeking fortune in bars
you, you are a f-cker, ’cause you say such stupid sh-t
i’ve got a better line in pocket lint
that what you’ve done with it

so if you are an -sshole who pretends to be a friend
then get your -ss 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 f-cking happy camper!

i hate your f-cking 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 sh-t 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 sh-t and also sneakers for the run
i dig it away, the sh-t you puked instead of swallowed
in an attempt to try and find the d-ck instead of the load
so when you move and stand aside my mood will hamper
and yes, i will become a f-cking 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 sh-t 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 f-cking d-nk
… you’re a f-cking d-nk… yeah!
…how’s this for punk? dink!
…suck my c-ck, you pathetic excuse for a human being

… you’re a neurotic, h-m-phobic, racist dork… you’ve also got a lot of b-lls to d-ck with someone else’s life, you f-cking pseudo ghetto “boy in the hood” middle cl-ss white spoiled rotten bored “gangsta” wanna-be hunk of regenerated red neck bullsh-t! thank christ you don’t have to rely on that staggering intellect or dynamic personality to intimidate others, sh-t for brains. shut the f-ck up, and get out of your parents’ house and get a real job, you putz, and for god’s sake, quit being such a f-cking sheep! now grow the h-ll up!

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 h-ssle kiss and tell
that either way my music’s sh-t and it ain’t ever going to sell
so if you’ve got the gall to take this sh-t blown up your -ss
and you’ve got the cash and b-lls to pump the same cr-p out in m-ss
then h-ll, i’ll stand aside and with your plans i’ll never tamper
i’ll sit and write you songs and be a f-cking 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 alb-m’s not an alb-m without issues left to hamper…
well then, f-ck
…i guess i am a f-cking