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The Jamie Oliver Petrol Station

I was at the Jamie Oliver Petrol Station
I needed deli, but God I hate him
That man should not have his face on posters
I feel so angry or sad at most, huh
But then I think of the New York skyline

The West Cork of the Yankee eyeline

Then get to thinking I have been wrong though

Let me explain, 'cause I'm never wrong though



Things are ugly to me, I get it

A flip phone with a lack of credit

And others beautiful, I remember

Blanch' right at the end of December



So, okay, don't be a bitch

The man's got kids, and they wouldn't like this

I'm saying, okay, don't be a bitch

The man's got kids, and they wouldn't like this, oh



Mm, this is making no sense to the average listener

Let me try to explain myself in a few words



I make up places like Finglas, Tennessee

A mish-mash of what should and shouldn't be

'Cause smoking area concerned glances

'She's really mental. It's not just acting.'



There's always something I'm missing out on

Overdosing on social Calpol

Overeager to make acquaintance

With someone normal and nice who'll explain it



You like forgetting one day you'll stop breathing

And you'll have wasted your time on seething

I said I'm wasting my time on seething

And hey you're not so good yourself

Come learn my mantra, it's like



Okay, don't be a bitch

The man's got kids, and they wouldn't like this

So, okay, don't be a bitch

The man's got kids, and they wouldn't like this, oh



Aw, I'm still not explaining myself very well at all

Let me try, let me try again, let me try



It's the fear of not getting the dole

And the joy of then chopping it up with the card that you draw it on

Coming through town and then seeing the type of the people you missed

Who'd have died back in Dublin

The jeans that I'm wearing are very expensive

It's not a reflection, reflection, reflection

Sinéad in Ratoath and Sinéad in the sky

The Sinéads that I'll meet on the by and by

And the fear of the freedom of being released again

Feel seventeen again

Washing the sheets with the lies that I don't even know that I've told

'Cause I've mixed them all up

Yeah, the cactus is cold

It's like



Okay, don't be a bitch

The man's got kids, and they wouldn't like this

I'm saying, okay, don't be a bitch

The man's got kids, and they wouldn't like this

I'm saying, Ciara, don't be a bitch

The man's got kids, and they wouldn't like this

I'm saying, Ciara, don't be a bitch

The man's got kids, and they wouldn't like this

Oh

Oh

Oh

Oh

Oh

Oh



I was at the Jamie Oliver Petrol Station

I needed deli, but God I hate him

That man should not have his face on posters

I feel so angry or sad at most, huh