O.B.C.T

You know the fakes will always bite

whenever you go throw the line...

fishing... gudgeons and perch

all draped in sponsorships and huggin self-worth...

like me

You know the fakes who hide behind

the little myths that like to chime, for 'em

all grit and dirt, until the mask falls off

and what you got is Sesame Street... Big Bird

You can't be splashing—you got no fins

You're getting salty—you ain't a fish

You know now I just fantasise

in an house three times the size, of my old one

and I pretend that it don’t matter

past Oliver Bonas in the Chelsea tractor

You can't be splashing—you got no fins

You're getting salty—you ain't a fish

You're getting shirty—ya cheeky cuff

You're getting dragged round by your sleeves

You can't be splashing—you got no fins

You're getting salty—you ain't a fish

You're getting shirty—ya cheeky cuff

You're getting dragged round by your sleeves

You can't be splashing—you got no fins

You're getting salty—you ain't a fish

You're getting shirty—ya cheeky cuff

You're getting dragged round by your sleeves

You can't be splashing—you got no fins

You're getting salty—you ain't a fish

You're getting shirty—ya cheeky cuff

You're getting dragged round by your sleeves

You're getting dragged round by your sleeves

You're getting dragged round by your sleeves

You're getting dragged round by your sleeves