You pretentious fucking losers 
You've got nothing at all 
You've got your fingers in your asshole 
And your hand on the call 
And you talk such fucking horseshit 
That it's hard to believe 
That you almost make careers out of being naive 

You, you are a fucker 'cause you sold my guitar 
You, you are a fucker, seeking fortune in bars 
You, you are a fucker, 'cause you say such stupid shit 
I've got a better line in pocket lint 
That what you've done with it 

So if you are an asshole who pretends to be a friend 
Then get your ass in music, you'll be set to the end, ending 
And now you've got the nerve to ask me about my temper? 
Why yes, I have become a fucking happy camper! 

I hate your fucking faces and your trendy cut hair 
I hate the fact you think your job will go anywhere 
Because its use is just the same as what I shit into the bowl 
Just like the mess between your ears is like the mess in my hole 
I hate your loser friends who only come out when it's right 
I hate that when it's down you run instead of fight 

I'm set to think your lot in life to test the stronger ones 
Will just require some chicken shit and also sneakers for the run 
I dig it away, the shit you puked instead of swallowed 
In an attempt to try and find the dick instead of the load 
So when you move and stand aside my mood will hamper 
And yes, I will become a fucking happy camper! 

Stuck in endless winter with your press to keep you sane 
Wait for useless numbers to grow useful once again 
Where the heat will come again, your flaw grows sick 
Your flaw will send, the shit you call your business 
To the place that is your end 
Stuck in the winter, cold and we