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jimbo boy! | by s2art
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jimbo boy!

Morrison's Hostel by TISM

 

Jimbo, boy, you're a crock of shit

You're a boozed selfish thug

Why don't you give your mouth a go

And in the other hole put a plug

 

By Christ you've got a long, long way

On a schoolboy's talent with words

One crappy bit of symbolism

And you're adored by an army of turds

 

You're a selfish, rude, arrogant prick

You're basically pretty stupid

You're mysticism's a lump of shit

And so are all the girls you've rooted

 

So don't talk about being sad and lonely

or fucking misunderstood

'cause underneath that self-pitying phoney

Is a selfish, brutal hood

 

I support the police that took you off stage

I support the fact you bled

I support the cops who carried you off

I support the fact you're dead

 

I think that you're a troubled guy

And I think that's nothing new

I think your fans are a bunch of turds

Almost as immature as you

 

And when I'm in my supermarket

And some prick pushes in front of my trolley

I'll be reminded of your stinking bravado

And I'll ask the cunt to say sorry

 

Your fans would excuse every rudeness

Just 'cause it comes from you

You'd tell them to go drop dead

And they'd say "oh how true, how true, how true"

 

You need a nine-to-five job, Jimbo

You need to get to Flinders Street by train

Go and find yourself a regular income

Then you can write a song about pain

 

Try and save for the kiddie's school fees

Take some care when you drive a car

Put your goddamn rubbish in a bin

You fucking great rock superstar

 

You have spawned a host of cock-sure shits

That are nearly always filthy rich

And think 'cause they're a little like ol' Jimbo

They can act like stinking pricks

 

An army of brainless arty youth

They look down upon us common plods

But they barrack for good ol' Morrison

Like the fucking Richmond cheer squad

 

So when you're listening to Morrisons Hostel

And Jimbo, he's in top form

Whining about this harsh cruel world

And the fact he was ever born

 

Remember his fans are rapt

And brooding over their suffering lives

And go to discuss it at 'Thrash and Treasure'

At least if daddy will drive

 

Jimbo. King of the private school kids

The girls from PLC who identify with his tortured soul

'cause they've just dropped boyfriend number three

He was Kent from Xavier College,

In HSC he got an A for English

But between Jimbo and William Blake

He hasn't the fucking brains to distinguish

 

Jimbo. Father of a generation of private school depression idols

From Nick Cave on they don't kill themselves

Just tell us why they're suicidal

He has made self pity legitimate

It means we'll have to face

One after another, artists with integrity

Like 'REO Speedwagon'.

 

Sorry, I meant 'Hugo Race'

 

Well, up your arse, Jimbo ol' man, up your fucking hole

You are a prick. pure and simple.

It's about time you were told

And up your arse to all your fans

Up your arse to your tortured artistic hell

And while we're fucking at it,

Up your arse to Morrissey as well

Up your arse to Robert Smith,

Up your arse to Albert Camus

All those "I'm suffering for my art"-y types

Jimbo, I blame them all on you

 

And everyone who handles life's pain

With a token of mature self-examination,

It's time these ponces were told to stick it

Up their bogus self-enfatuation

 

But if you're after true self-indulgence

Then the conclusions still aren't final

'cause if you thought Jim Morisson was a wanker,

Well, Christ, you've just bought this fucking bit of vinyl!

 

Up Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo

Up Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo

Up Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo

Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo

Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo

Up Jimbo, Jimbo...

 

lyrics © TISM

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Taken on February 19, 2005