Frankly, Mr Shankly (Demo)

[Verse 1]

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held

It pays my way, and it corrodes my soul

I want to leave, you will not miss me

I want to go down in musical history

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck

I've got the twenty-first century breathing down my neck

I must move fast, you understand me

I want to go down in celluloid history, Mr. Shankly

[Instrumental Break]

[Bridge]

Fame, fame, fatal fame

It can play hideous tricks on the brain

But still I'd rather be famous

Than righteous or holy, any day, any day, any day

Oh, but sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled

Making Christmas cards with the mentally ill

I want to live, I want to love

I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of

[Verse 2]

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held

It pays my way, and it corrodes my soul

Oh, I didn't realise that you wrotе poetry

I didn't realise you wrotе such bloody awful poetry, Mr. Shankly

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, since you ask

You are a flatulent pain in the arse

I do not mean to be so rude

But still, I must speak frankly, Mr. Shankly

Oh, give us the money!