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Passenger
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I Hate (Live from the Borderline, London)
Well, I hate racist blokes, telling tasteless jokes,
And explaining where people belong.
I hate ignorant folks, who pay money to see gigs,
And talk through everything fucking song.
I hate people in nightclubs, snorting coke,
And explaining where you're going wrong.
Well, if you agree, come hate it with me,
And feel free to sing along.
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc.
And I hate pointless status updates on feizbuck,
'FYI', we were never mates.
We pretend to be friends on the internet,
When in real life we have nothing to say
To each other,
Oh, brother, I've love for my mother,
For good times, for music and my mates.
Yeah, I love and I live, and I have love to give,
But sometimes, all you can do is hate.
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And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc.
I hate them fussy eaters, you cook them fajitas,
They only eat pizza and chips.
I hate stepping outside for a smoke, and some guy coughs,
Like your lungs are his.
And I hate queuing up for festival toilets,
Especially when you need a shit.
I hate the X-factor, for murdering music,
You bunch of money grabbing pricks.
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc.
And I hate them magazines, aimed at insecure teens,
They make ten year olds race to throw up.
'Hey kids lets be anoerxic', or better, eat chocolate 'til you throw up.
Keep your Hollywood stars, in their stupid cars,
And the botox, that makes them looked fucked.
Just grow old with grace, have you seen Cher's face?
It looks like it's been hit by a truck.
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc
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