Lot
of
knots,
lot
of
snags,
lot
of
holes,
lot
of
cracks
lot
of
crags.
Lot
of
naggin'
old
hags,
lot
of
fools,
lot
of
fool
scum
bags.
Oh
it's
such
a
drag,
what
a
chore...
oh
your
wounds
are
full
of
salt.
Everything's
a
stress
and
what's
more,
well
it's
all
somebody's
fault.
Hey!
Get
over
it!
Makes
you
sick,
makes
you
ill,
makes
you
cheat,
slipping
change
from
the
till.
Had
it
up
to
the
gills...
makes
you
cry
while
the
milk
still
spills.
Ain't
it
just
a
bitch?
What
a
pain...
Well
it's
all
a
crying
shame.
What
left
to
do
but
complain?
Better
find
someone
to
blame.
Hey!
Get
over
it!
Got
a
job,
got
a
life,
got
a
four-door
and
a
faithless
wife.
Got
those
nice
copper
pipes,
got
an
ex,
got
a
room
for
the
night.
Aren't
you
such
a
catch?
What
a
prize!
Got
a
body
like
a
battle
axe...
Love
that
perfect
frown,
honest
eyes...
We
ought
to
buy
you
a
Cadillac.
Hey!
Get
over
it!
