The Fuck You Song I Wish I’d Written

So you wanna know me now?
How I’ve been?
You can’t help someone recover
After what you did
So tell me

Am I looking better?
Have you forgot whatever it was
That you couldn’t stand about me,
about me, about me?

Because
Yes I do feel better, yes I do
I feel alright
(I’m better now)
I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you’ve got to offer!

You wanna know me now?
How I’ve been
You can’t help someone recover
After all that you did
So tell me

Am I looking better?
Or have you forgot whatever it was
That you couldn’t stand about me, about me, about me?

Because
Yes I do feel better, yes I do
I feel alright
(I’m better now)
I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you’ve got to offer!

Yes I do feel better, yes I do
I feel alright
(I’m better now)
I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you’ve got to offer!

On and on and on and on and on and on – has no-one said?

Stay away
Stay away
I’m better, better
Yes!

I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you’ve got…

‘Yes’
Copyright Bernard Butler / David McAlmont 1995

Waxworks

You
can’t
hold a
candle
to him

She
said

You’ll
never
know
how
we felt

I wouldn’t
go near
him with
a naked
flame

He
said

For
fear
that he
would
melt

The(ir) Split

It’s
not
about
what
she
did

Or
what
he did
either
to be
fair

It’s
about
how
it has
made
me feel

For
the
rest
I could
not
care

Catharsis

I
really
only
write

What
everyone
else is
thinking

I just
do what
comes
naturally

And
without
even
flinching

As If

What’s
that

I
hear
you
cry

Don’t
stand
at your
grave
and
weep

I
wouldn’t
piss
on it

If it
was on
fire

You
fucking
egotistical
creep

Like Lightning

I remember

When I thought
it was you

And
I made my
feelings
plain

But
then
I met
him

And within
seconds
I knew

I’d never
think about you

Again

(Prick)ly

Not
the
best
at
being
loved

But
pretty
good
at
loving

Not
the
best
at
being
pushed

But
pretty
good
at
shoving

Mother’s Ruin

As
the rot
starts
to set
in

I
pour
myself
another
gin

To
silence
the pain
in my
head

As
the
thoughts
seem to
shift

My
mood
starts
to
lift

And
I can
finally
get out
of bed

Precision

Just be
careful
not to
slip

Not one
ounce of
blood to
drip

For you
don’t want
them to
see

Just how
messed
up you
can be

To My Heart

If
only
I
could
make
you
see

That
it is
you
who
keeps
the
key

Oh
how
much
fun
it
could
be

Finding
ways
to
make
us
both
happy

(Hot)Wired

How
will
it
feel

She
asks

As
I don’t
think
I know

I’ve
forgotten
what it
means

She
says

When
something
stirs
below

Eighteen Months

It’s
all
still
so
fucking
surreal

I
can’t
get my
head
around
it

Fuck
knows
what
I am
supposed
to feel

Let
alone
how
to
explain
it

Immoral

This
can’t
go on

We
mustn’t
continue

As the
guilt is
seeping

Into
every
sinew

It
has to
stop

It
shouldn’t
have
started

As
we
made a
mockery

Of our
dearly
departed