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(Verse 1: Jam Baxter) (?)... calling people high on drugs, with ideas that only vaguely make sense Explained at great length, on the main stage sweatin' out play the game drenched Out the front shottin' vials of that tailor made stench Dear mother, I landed that position that I ran for Screaming at people in small towns from a raised platform Climbing and diving into em, land flat on damn floor, black out Today's messiah enters through the back door And steps out like "bathe now in the wisdom" Found face down in a strange town in the midlands Spinning at 12 hundred, 50 degree drunkard I'm just tryin' to wash the chemical stain out of my system I live in a high budget so (reelers feel my direct?) poorly So out to every creepy underling that checks for me Scrawny mess slash born again success story Memories of last night strewn along the M40 On the real, (on the real, on the real..) You people are very strange, sweaty stained Vibrating tin men of every age Shrink-wrapped shipped out and slapped alive ready-made The messy-range exclusive to the front row of any stage Ready James?, run the tune Sammy Half the wrap and half the rider got the crew scatty At 9am still flogging a dead jam An that's about as gang as yelling "gang" when your not gang (Hook) Steam rolling in without warning (I'm only in town for two nights, what's on the menu?) About 20 bottles, blotters and this liquid I been hauling (What's on the menu?) A sea of drunk devils at the front all brawling (I'm off the rails) That's why they yelling gang That's why they yelling gang That's why they yelling gang That's why they yelling gang (Verse 2: Dirty Dike) I hang with you loose groupies Cus I ain't trying to bang we're just having a few smoothies Blue cheese crackers a sack of these blue lagoons An its back to back with jam baccarack and booze boozey Some shows move me, other shows are stuck in glue But what the fuck d'you do You smoke a tonne of marijuana in the bus and move Discuss the news, and fuck up the club and boot Climb inside a tin can and boot it into boiled mash Ten thousand ways to bring a movement in a foil bag Oiled rags dads mums fat cunts spoilt slags All come for full scale attack clap your balls and hands Bitches with their tits out, (ink splash?) and stage dives On stage we're best mates the next day you hate dike Why? Because I brainwashed the rave watch Ain't stopping shit except to celebrate the take-off Fuckin up the pay and you can get the bloody aids cloth Just another day to let the substance in my face rot Ready Jake? better give the walrus a shout 'Cus I ain't seen him since the last shot he poured in his mouth And there's a bunch of freaks applauding on the floor in this town And man its our responsibility to slaughter the house Storming about the stage gets a slap in the face And raped from mad-passion, sadgasms and hate (Hook) Steam rolling in without warning (I'm only in town for two nights, what's on the menu?) About 20 bottles, blotters and this liquid I been hauling (What's on the menu?) A sea of drunk devils at the front all brawling (I'm off the rails) That's why they yelling gang That's why they yelling gang That's why they yelling gang That's why they yelling gang..