I want to be an addict
I want to be a whore
I want to be a headcase
with no apparent cure
I want not to be responsible
For the things I do and say
To be considered a mad genius
For the idiots I blow away
<Interlude>
I'm all up in this girl whose
husband is a cop should I stop
Hell no hell no
I want to be eccentric
in the hughsian
sense of the word
I want to be cooked up
and filleted never to be served
I want to carry out coups
military and the like
To kidnap royal daughters
from big palaces at night
I want to do the things
They say can never be done
I want to pass every lesser car
in my lemans prepped mclaren f1
should I stop
Hell no
Should I stop
Hell no
But i think I'm being followed
I get all skitchy
It's hard to swallow
maybe I'm just wallowing
in self pity maybe
It's just this psycho city
or the fact that she's so
fucking pretty
<Interlude>
I want the dealers to roll me
fatties pimps pick me up
in their in-the-mud caddies
thugs lay down their
gatties and battles
I want every last motherfucking
bad guy to call me daddy
Who's your daddy
Who's your daddy
You can call me daddy
You can call me daddy
Who's your daddy
cked down
and they put you first in line
And so you finally ask yourself
just how big you are
and take your place in a wiser
world of bigger motor cars
<Intelrude>
So Where the hell was Biggles
when you needed him
last Saturday
And where were all the sportsmen
who always pulled you though
They're all resting down
in Cornwall
writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual
See there! A man born