I was at the Jamie Oliver Petrol Station
I needed deli but God, I hate him
That man should not have his face on posters
I feel so angry and sad at most, huh
But then I think of the New York skyline
The West Cork of the Yankee eyeline
Then get to thinking I have it wrong, tho'
Let me explain 'cause I'm never wrong though
Things are ugly to me, I get it
A flip phone with a lack of credit
And others beautiful I remember
Blanch right at the end of December

So, ok, don't be a bitch
The man's got kids
And they wouldn't like this
I'm saying, ok, don't be a bitch
The man's got kids
And they wouldn't like this
Oh

Mmh, this is making no sense to the average listener
Let me try explain myself in a few words

I make up places like Finglas, Tennessee
A mish-mash of what should and shouldn't be
The smoking area concerned glances
Shes really mental, it's not just acting
There's always something I'm missing out on
Overdosing on social calpol
Overeager to make acquaintance
With someone normal and nice who'll explain it
I forget it when they stop breathing
And you'll have wasted your time on seething
I said I'm wasting my time on seething
And hey you're not so good yourself

Come learn my mantra, it's like

Ok, don't be a bitch
The man's got kids
And they wouldn't like this
So, ok, don't be a bitch
The man's got kids
And they wouldn't like this
Oh

I'm still not explaining myself very well at all
Let me try, let me try again, let me try

It's the fear of not getting
The door of the joy
Of the chopping it up
With the car that you draw it on
Coming through town and then
Seeing the type of the people you missed
Who’d have died back in Dublin
The jeans that I'm wearing are very expensive
İt’s no a reflection, reflection, reflection
Sinéad in Ratoath and Sinéad in the sky
The Sinéad that I’ll meet on the by and by
And the fear of the freedom of being released again
Feel seventeen again, washing the sheets with
The lies that I don’t even know that I’ve told 'cause
I've mixed them all up, yeah the cactus is cold

It's like
Ok, don't be a bitch
The man's got kids
And they wouldn't like this
So, ok, don't be a bitch
The man's got kids
And they wouldn't like this
I'm saying, Ciara, don't be a bitch
The man's got kids
And they wouldn't like this
I'm saying, Ciara, don't be a bitch
The man's got kids
And they wouldn't like this
Oh

I was at the
Jamie Oliver Petrol Station
I needed deli but God, I hate him
That man should not have his face on posters
I feel so angry and sad at most, ugh