The Arsehole

It’s midnight and I’ve got to go to bed

But I’ve got this aching in my head

And no one seems to want to come and talk to me

Because I am the arsehole, probably

So

I’ll just sit and think about this instrument

That Dirty Dave gave to me, what a gent

But it wasn’t for nothing, no, it was for my birthday

And I think that he’d been meaning to give it to me for a little while anyway

Yeah I think that he’d been meaning

To give it to me for a little while anyway

And I am the arsehole, by the way

You see it more clearly than the others

Even my sisters and my brother

They know me much better than you do

I just never fucked them around like I fucked around with you

I’m the

Arsehole, but so are you

You’re the arsehole, don’t you know it?

Getting shit written about you as if this arsehole thinks that he’s some kind of poet

He may think it, but you would never know it

Because you’re the arsehole

But you’re too bloody scared to show it

Harder than the road side, a vehicle at night time

Arsehole keep coming and arseholes keep going

Seamstress so lovely, I know that you’re sewing

Something you haven’t made yet for and arsehole that you haven’t met

Yet

Now it’s 3am and I’ve really got to get to bed

But I’ve got this aching in my heart and head

And no one seems to want to come and talk to me

Because I am the aresehole, it’s plain to see