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The fucking kids are whingeing
They canât get a job;
The photocopy repair man
Is a smarmy smartarse knob;
Iâve been running this office
For so long I canât recall -
Iâve gone and pissed thirty years
Up against a wall.
Iâve gone and pissed thirty years up against a wall.
Iâve gone and pissed thirty years up against a wall.
Good
morning
Mr.
Jenkins,
The office girls all say;
Gentlemen, I tell the board,
The
agenda
for
today?
I play the part so desperately
Because the truth so appalls:
Iâve gone and pissed thirty years
Up against a wall.
The fingers that knot my tie
Are fat with some success;
They tremble - still so slightly,
So far only I notice:
In the far off wilderness
A lone hyena calls:
Iâve gone and pissed thirty years
Up against a wall.
Off I go to the menâs room
For the seventh time today:
My bladder no longer hears me,
No matter what I say.
I count the tiles in front of me,
And wait for the trickle to fall:
Iâve gone and pissed thirty years
Up against a fucking wall.
Iâve gone and pissed thirty years up against a wall. (x8)
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