Mrs. Butterworth lyrics

Your life is shit, shit

Your life is bogus, ball

Your life is trite, cry

Your life is hell, hell

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm going to die, to help my libido

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm gonna die, who wants to stay?

Your life is shit, shit

Your life is strange and insane

Your life is lame, a type of crap

Your life is jail, clam

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm going to hell, to help my libido

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm going to hell, help my libido

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm going to hell, help my libido

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm gonna die, who wants to stay?

Your life is shit

I'ma open myself up a flea market

I'ma open myself up a flea market

And you're gonna wish that you did

Might retire on the profits

First off, I'ma empty out all of my Mrs. Butterworth jars

I'ma put 'em on a shelf with my 800 dollar a month tax free Century 21, shop

And then I am going to put my Mrs. Butterworth syrup jars on the shelf

Next to all the commemorative fast food chain glasses and cups I've accumulated over the past 62 years

Then I'm going to get some plywood

I'm going to get some plywood and cut them up into two by two piece squares

Then I'm going to get some burlap and I'm going to cut them into two by two piece squares and then I'm going to put them onto the pieces of plywood

And then I'm going to go to the beach

I'm going to go to the beach and I'm gonna collect some shells and driftwood

And then I'm gonna take the shells and driftwood and glue them onto the plywood and burlap

And sell 'em for lots of money

People will be paying top dollar for my kids new used new toys and clothing

Then maybe someday I can get rid of that piss stained mattress I've been sleeping on

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm going to hell, help my libido

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm gonna die, to help my libido

I'm gonna die, start a new union

I'm gonna die, to help my libido

I'm gonna die, we'll start a new union

I'm gonna die, who wants to stay?