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