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Nothing ruins comedy like arenas
That is a well-established fact
But your enjoyment is not as important as my self-esteem is
My ego's the only thing you can see clearly from the back
But I'm quite famous now, so suck my balls
I've sold my tickets, my job is done, fuck you all
Who cares about quality? This is not about you, this is all about me
And my tiny little penis, and flogging DVDs
So bring it on, bring it on
Fuck the punters, bring it on
I am a rockstar, motherfucker
And I won't be one for long
So bring it on, bring it on
You gotta make hay in the shining sun
You gotta rock all the way up
'Cause the only place to go from here is down
But I'm trapped for now
And the fact for now
Is there's no escaping this
I'm wearing baseball caps to hide my face
So the paps don't snap my kids
All I ever wanted was to sing my little songs
But now I'm pregnant in Hello Magazine
And I'm overweight in Cosmopolitan
So bring it on
Before too long my wife and kids will be gone, gone, gone
And I'll have wanked myself to death
In the penthouse suite of the Four Seasons
So bring it on, bring it on
Phone the hookers, stoke the bongs
I am a rockstar, I've got my own orchestra
I can do what I fucking want
I thought fame would make me happy
But she's a fickle, cheap romance
They just wanna see me dance