I'm Not Bulimic

Wishing I was someone else,
 It’s my own fault that I’m fucked up but I still worry about my mental health.
 I’ve g-g-got a stutter and the memory of a Goldfish,
 My mind is melting into mush because I barely use it.

 I think it’s time to sort it out, to get a job and move out.
 But I’m just a kid! So? Deal with it!
 It’s the credit crunch, that’s my excuse for being unemployed for months.

 Wishing I was someone else but I’m not, I’m myself,
 And I really need some cash ‘cos chasing dreams don’t pay you jack.
 So put the kettle on, leave the tea bag in because I like it strong,
 My mouth is burned to bits and I’m practically drowning in PG Tips.

 I’m not promising anything but I’ll try to try 
 to get a job instead of watching TV all of the time, 
 but we all know the best thing since sliced bread 
 is Two Pints Of Lager And A Packet Of Crisps.

 Playstation 3 is owning me, I’m sick of playing Gameboy, Nintendo and Xbox 360.
 My thumbs have blisters on the plasters covering blisters -
 Triangle and circle are my brothers, X and square my sisters.

 I moved back in with my mum, no job, no money, no hope, no fun.
 I owe about a million grand for my guitar, my amp and a band van.
 I studied music at University, spent another million grand on tuition fees
 and then left without a degree.

 We are the kids of the recession, credit cards, overdrafts, loans and no pensions.
 We are the kids, we’ll learn our lesson by years of living in a country in depression.