God knows this shit ain’t pretty,
With a ghost inside of me.
Playing host to this ghost,
Got a ghost inside of me.
Its the dark side of comedy,
Carrying this ghost inside of me.
When will I be free?
Of this ghost inside of me.

I’m a party animal,
I’m a kaleidoscopic carnival.
I’m an animal for travel,
I’m a such a party animal.

I’m as meek as a mouse,
You can smoke joints in my house.
I’m an Irish breed of monkey,
A politically correct paddy junkie.

After the pub, back to the gaff,

Bag full of cans, time for a laugh.

Different tunes, no time to think,

Queue for the jacks so puke in the sink.

Roll up a joint and pass to your mate,

Look for a snog, let’s tempt fate.

Check upstairs then check downstairs,

No women here, its time to despair.

Another fucking sausage factory,

Just one more Irish house party.

Dreams are better than reality,
Serotonin is such a precious commodity.
A Utopian state is an unknown rarity,
Whereas a dream is an oasis of creativity

In our beds, as we enter REM sleep,
Our brain cut loose, cast into the deep.
The lottery, sex, fame and sporting endeavours,
I wonder will we dream when we become cadavers.

I wish I could play guitar,
I wish I had a fancy car.
Life would be a chocolate bar,
I would be a shining star.
Should have listened more in school,
Instead of trying to look cool.
Smoking fags, observing trends,
Thank fuck for all my friends

You arrive home after much toil from being a man,
Its time to make yourself as comfortable as you can.
Bring up the laptop, an ashtray, and your smokes,
My solidarity gun salute to ordinary blokes.
Spread out all your pretty lady magazines,
They will contribute and be entwined in your dreams.
Let the world slowly fade away to a pointless frown,
Relax, let go, your at last coming down.

I used to watch the pretty ladies on my laptop at night,
I live on my own so I think that’s alright.
It’s like having a party with girl’s from a movie.
I’d turn down the lights to make everything groovy.
Now my hard-drive is sick, key pads kinda smelly,
Its just a pity that these party animals aren’t on the telly.
Will bring it to mates to get wiped after tea.
One more computer has broke it off with me.

Eight ball of coke, and a supermodel cohort,
One hand on the wheel chillin as we snort.
Revving up the engine, to its maximum speed,
Glad as the princess rolls up the weed.

Thundering down the motorway, vision from heaven,
Shooting out the window, with an AK 47.
Supersonic super car, this is live stream,
Just another lottery Lamborghini day dream.

I put my finger up my nose,
Cause that is where the magic grows.
If its crispey I let a shout,
And chew the bogey in my mouth.

Hi my dear.any chance of a date?
I got my dole and I’m feeling great.
No fancy meal,just grab your bag,
We will walk back home and have a shag.