Dlwhy - Intellectual

Excuse me, mate

You've just dropped one of your tattoos

Yeah, just over there

Excuse me, mate

You've just dropped one of your tattoos

(Oh have I?) Yeah, just over there

I don't really wanna save your venue

You're talking to me like a seven-year-old that's not gone to bed before they should do

This isn't school

Does it bother me? A bit

I still wanna be rated by some prick

You're not DiY, you're a fucking twat

You look like Fred Dibnah and your haircut's crap

You're in a shouty band, you're not original, man

You're like the edgy version of something shit

Shouty Dibnah in an All Saints jacket

You sell guitars on Facebook

And you drink too much beer, sonny

You do playlists for Fred Perry, you boring cunt

And you shave your hair just above your ear

Oh yeah, not another white bloke agro band

Oh yeah, we're all the fucking same

Let's not kid ourselves, man

Some win and some lose the fame game-ah

I saw a doctor, I said-ah, "Why do I feel like slapping these B&M goths

All this post-punk dross?"

He said-ah, "Because they're fucking cunts, Jason

Fucking hit 'em!"

Yeah

So many reasons why

I say death to your DIWhy

Yeah

I just seen it over there next to the nativity play you got goin' on

The three wise men bringing nonsense, tinsel and dur

You with your book on unknown singers

Covered in blood

Oh, it suits you, sir!

Why is talking to me like I'm 7 on the menu?

Fuck yourself

And fuck your venue

Cup's too big, but that's alright 'cause I don't wanna burn my hands

As I order sausages

Hovel stop

Shouting at the misery block

Like me, just Dan and chip off the old block

Butcher's death

Prisoner Cell Block H

You need to get eight steaks out of that one piece, mate-ah

So many reasons why

I say death to your DIWhy

Yeah

Make it slice air