1. |
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2. |
Spice Boys
03:02
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3. |
Curbstomp
04:53
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4. |
Simon
04:19
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5. |
It's Got Me Like
04:26
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I met this chick,
It was more than just a quick flick,
I mean we were going along for about two, three years strong
Till one day she was gone,
She said we were done,
And i was sitting there broken,
Joint in hand smoking, hoping,
Toking a bit of the remedy,
I close my eyes and i see a bittersweet memory,
And I get that feeling,
You know the sexual itch,
And there is only one way i know how to scratch it,
So we get to the dispute,
The truth, the root of the issue,
I miss you so please hand me a fucking tissue,
Im crying and i don’t even know why man,
Everytime i think of you my dick ends up in my hand,
La da da daaaaaa
La da da daaa da da da
I'm at my friend's house,
Just watching the tv,
What should i see a bit of skin that really taunts me,
What should i do,
Get up leave the scene and go up to the bathroom,
Whip out my dick and give my cock a groom,
A stroke, a choke,
While i'm thinking of her,
That ex of mine you know, the bitch of a girl,
And the shame hits me again,
Can’t get her out of my brain,
I'm not over her i guess i’ll just have to pretend,
So we get to the dispute,
The truth, the root of the issue,
I miss you so please hand me a fucking tissue,
Im crying and i don’t even know why man,
Everytime i think of you my dick ends up in my hand,
La da da daaaaaa
La da da daaa da da da
So i’m walking down the street,
Who should i meet,
That ex of mine, you know the sexual freak,
So go over cause I got a lot of things on my chest,
So I tell her I've been depressed,
Her lips are sorely missed,
She blanks me, ignored,
Can’t deny it was sore,
But something in my head switch,
I couldn’t take it no more,
So when she was walking away,
I stood in the middle of town,
In front of everyone,
And roared the fucking shit down,
So we get to the dispute,
The truth, the root of the issue,
Fuck you bitch I don’t want your fucking tissue,
I don’t care for you and I'm never going to miss you,
If you ever talk to me again Ill fucking kill you,
La da da daaaaaa
La da da daaa da da da
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The Jobseekerz
We are the sweatiest 5 piece band south of the border. The band originally hails from the magical lands of Cavan with
members from as far and wide as Navan and Louth.
The Jobseekerz draw their inspiration from the elevator music that is played in the Post Office every monday morning whilst standing in the queue for their dole. It is a style that can only only be described as Gyp-Hop meets Rock.
... more
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