Just found this parody of 'The man who can't be moved' by The Script that I wrote ages ago when me and a friend were sat on the side of a dual carraige way at 1am. It's real bad obviously, but anyway.
So I wake up here
On the corner of the street
I write a sign sayin'
where's my money I just want some sweets
don't really want some sweets
I just want some coke
but i'm just sayin that so nobody knows
So if one day you're walking
down this vomit stained street
and your conscience is saying
give that man something to eat
you come back the next morning
with a sandwich for me
i'll just spit it all back at you
cuz i don't like sliced meat
I don't like sliced meat
I don't like sliced meat.
Cubed maybe.