Song parody of
Rat Shit
by Seb Lowe
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Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
See the face of a man, as he raises his right hand,
Slams it, on the table,
Looking for a scrap he turns to cocaine and Abel.
Now is face is red, screaming authoritarian,
He’s only got the power cos the world were by chance fair on him,
And he states his 50 titles, so the little ones get scared of him,
Southern fuckin softy, he ain’t got an ounce of hair on him.
50 plots of land and he can shit where he wants,
Money over seas so he flee away at once,
Always in the paper,
Public demographic loves him but,
50 years later they’ll find out he was a nonce.
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love it turns to rat shit.
Better pass it to the axe mans hatchet, Just so he can turn it to laser gun and blast it,
Murder in the House of Commons
Nothing two drastic,
And I’ll film it as a slapstick.
It’s pretty but it cries out,
Overwhelming policy and underwhelming nights out.
It all turns to rat shit when anybody tries out.
The help’ll come for a couple seconds n’ you’ll see him on his bike out.
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Yeah, mum and dad told me,
About peace and love and the melting pot,
Now it’s boiling and it scolds me.
It’s time to turn around and face it all before it gets too hot.
The shit that’s riling everyone, if only they just grew some.
Maybe I could turn around and shut the mouths that spew some.
I’ve got nothing for but a gun, it’s full of lies.
Maybe I could turn around and start a revolution.
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
See the face of a man, as he raises his right hand,
Slams it, on the table,
Looking for a scrap he turns to cocaine and Abel.
Now is face is red, screaming authoritarian,
He’s only got the power cos the world were by chance fair on him,
And he states his 50 titles, so the little ones get scared of him,
Southern fuckin softy, he ain’t got an ounce of hair on him.
50 plots of land and he can shit where he wants,
Money over seas so he flee away at once,
Always in the paper,
Public demographic loves him but,
50 years later they’ll find out he was a nonce.
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love it turns to rat shit.
Better pass it to the axe mans hatchet, Just so he can turn it to laser gun and blast it,
Murder in the House of Commons
Nothing two drastic,
And I’ll film it as a slapstick.
It’s pretty but it cries out,
Overwhelming policy and underwhelming nights out.
It all turns to rat shit when anybody tries out.
The help’ll come for a couple seconds n’ you’ll see him on his bike out.
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Yeah, mum and dad told me,
About peace and love and the melting pot,
Now it’s boiling and it scolds me.
It’s time to turn around and face it all before it gets too hot.
The shit that’s riling everyone, if only they just grew some.
Maybe I could turn around and shut the mouths that spew some.
I’ve got nothing for but a gun, it’s full of lies.
Maybe I could turn around and start a revolution.
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
Everything we love, it turns to rat shit.
(Everything we love, everything we love)
