Strapping Young Lad - Happy Camper (Carpe B.U.M.) lyrics

You pretentious fucking losers
You've got nothing at all
You've got your fingers in your asshole
And your hand on the call
And you talk such fucking horseshit
That it's hard to believe
That you almost make careers
Out of being naive

You, you are a fucker 'cause
You sold my guitar you, you are a fucker
Seeking fortune in bars
You, you are a fucker
'cause you say such stupid shit
I've got a better line in pocket lint
That what you've done with it
So if you are an asshole who
Pretends to be a friend
Then get your ass in music, you'll
Be set to the end, ending
And now you've got the nerve to


Ask me about my temper? Why yes
I have become a fucking happy camper!

I hate your fucking faces and
Your trendy cut hair
I hate the fact you think
Your job will go anywhere
Because it's use is just the same as
What I shit into the bowl
Just like the mess between your ears is
Like the mess in my hole
I hate your loser friends who only
Come out when it's right
I hate that when it's down
You run instead of fight

I'm set to think your lot in
Life to test the stronger ones
Will just require some chicken shit and
Also sneakers for the run i dig it away
The shit you puked instead of swallowed
In an attempt to try and find
The dick instead of the load
So when you move and stand
Aside my mood will hamper and yes
I will become a fucking happy camper!

Stuck in endless winter with your
Press to keep you sane
Wait for useless numbers to
Grow useful once again
Where the heat will come again
Your flaw grows sick your flaw will send
The shit you call your business
To the place that is your end
Stuck in the winter, cold and wet
Your stupid friends have come and went
And you're left behind with your idiot job
And it's far from a prize, you fucking dink
You're a fucking dink yeah!
How's this for punk? Dink! Suck my cock
You pathetic excuse for a human being

You're a neurotic, homophobic
Racist dork you've also got a
Lot of balls to dick
With someone else's life
You fucking pseudo-ghetto
"boy in the hood" middle-class, white
Spoiled-rotten bored "gangsta" wanna-be
Hunk of regenerated
Redneck bullshit! Thank Christ you
Don't have to rely on
That staggering intellect
Or dynamic personality to intimidate others
Shit for Brains shut the fuck
Up, and get out of your
Parents' house and get
A real job, you putz, and for god's sake
Quit being such a fucking sheep!
Now grow the hell up! Dink

I let it get me down because
You're in it for the glory
And I'd rather leave with reason than
Go dying for a story
And this whole LA rock thing
That the malls are buying up
It doesn't work, it doesn't work
It's so inbred I might throw up

And now I'm put into the middle
With the contracts and the bunk
And I always end up hearing
"Hey man, punk let's have more punk!"
So here I am to do
A favour, save some hassle, kiss and tell
That either way my music's shit and
It ain't ever going to sell
So if you've got the gall to take
This shit blown up your ass
And you've got the cash and balls to
Pump the same crap out en masse then hell
I'll stand aside and with your
Plans I'll never tamper
I'll sit and write you songs and
Be a happy happy camper

Yeah, send me out a contract and
In clauses you will lurk
The smaller points so I can give
It all and save you work
You say an album's not an album
Without issues left to hamper
Well then, fuck i guess I am a fucking
Happy fucking
Camper "What a miserable guy!"