Song parody of
glebe road
by Benjadin
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Waking up and shaking up a new can of Fanta
Then not showing up like I'm a poor kid's Santa
8 fucking 40 with 2 hours of sleep
And 14 all week counting thousands of sheep
One fucking mistake and your life just crumbles
Your ego's fuck humbled when the bag has been fumbled
Pulling up stats that you can't understand
4 girls, 2 boys, that's Numberwang
Underage, under covers, really underwhelming
Boys are underrated, deleting all their filming
Birthdays roll by like punches to the gut
Never never not, time is never up, only only up
I took off my shirt (time is never up, only only up)
Oh, it felt so good
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe, I'm Glebe
Buzzcut Boy died on last week's Friday
We all celebrated like the past week's highs stay
Paying for my friends and giving money to my cousins
400 in my bank account, what you want from Budgen's
Better apologise, look, you're just not the same
Etymologise books for lust on the page
And scrutinise every single action that you make
And when you're wrong, go take a pistol to the face
Or pencil to your temple, I'm not even being rude
But the self-aware aspect is swallowed, not chewed
You're dead food dead dogs like to out
Treat it like Shrove Tuesday and let it pan out
Take a look in the mirror and tell yourself to man up
And tell yourself to worry and to make a plan up
And then apologise to me and look me in the eyes
And tell me "Happy Birthday!" with a dot on the I
And I wish you were better and I wish you were great
But you're nothing fucking to me, reality check
Fate
I took off my shirt
Oh, it felt so good
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe, I'm Glebe
I took off my shirt
Oh, it felt so good
I took off my shirt
Oh, it felt so good
Waking up and shaking up a new can of Fanta
Then not showing up like I'm a poor kid's Santa
8 fucking 40 with 2 hours of sleep
And 14 all week counting thousands of sheep
One fucking mistake and your life just crumbles
Your ego's fuck humbled when the bag has been fumbled
Pulling up stats that you can't understand
4 girls, 2 boys, that's Numberwang
Underage, under covers, really underwhelming
Boys are underrated, deleting all their filming
Birthdays roll by like punches to the gut
Never never not, time is never up, only only up
I took off my shirt (time is never up, only only up)
Oh, it felt so good
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe, I'm Glebe
Buzzcut Boy died on last week's Friday
We all celebrated like the past week's highs stay
Paying for my friends and giving money to my cousins
400 in my bank account, what you want from Budgen's
Better apologise, look, you're just not the same
Etymologise books for lust on the page
And scrutinise every single action that you make
And when you're wrong, go take a pistol to the face
Or pencil to your temple, I'm not even being rude
But the self-aware aspect is swallowed, not chewed
You're dead food dead dogs like to out
Treat it like Shrove Tuesday and let it pan out
Take a look in the mirror and tell yourself to man up
And tell yourself to worry and to make a plan up
And then apologise to me and look me in the eyes
And tell me "Happy Birthday!" with a dot on the I
And I wish you were better and I wish you were great
But you're nothing fucking to me, reality check
Fate
I took off my shirt
Oh, it felt so good
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe Road till I die
I'm Glebe, I'm Glebe
I took off my shirt
Oh, it felt so good
I took off my shirt
Oh, it felt so good
