I'm gonna lie on my back and you put your fingers down my mouth right,
No, no do it right, like augh ugh!
I'm gonna do a Jimi Hendrix,
Eugh, I'm gonna be sick in my sleep, eugh, augh ugh!

I tries to do it proper but kept comin' up a cropper
I needs some hype I think I'll ram raid happy shopper
Haven't got a car so I use a space hopper
Bouncing to the window, cut my head, show stopper
I want a hundred fans, 200 teeny boppers
I want police protection from 87 coppers
I wanna go gold even better platinum
If you wanna be a star you gotta kill yourself, man
It's the truth step back, take a look around
Elvis is dead for being fat, 500 pound
Kurt Cobain's rich as fuck he's buried in the ground
Jimi Hendrix and his amp still ain't makin' no sound
Michael hutchence, he's one of 'em too
Made a hundred million quid dying tossing on the loo

S U I C I D E
It might be messy but it's money for free

Suicide is painless or so it has been said
I could've killed myself but I'd be better off dead
So I took a deep breath, put a gun against my head
Pulled the trigger, click, should've been eating lead
But I wasn't, I was naked in john frost square
Mothers with pushchairs stopped and stared
For this situation I was quite unprepared
Tried suicide to be famous but nobody cared

Committing suicide to enhance my career
It worked for mickey and Tupac Shakir
Jesus was nailed up to some wood
2000 years later and book sales are still good
I heard in a song suicide is painless
And it's 80% sure to make you famous
W4nking with a bag on yer head tied to a door
That bloke from I-N-X-S he knew the score

S U I C I D E, it might be messy but it's money for free
S U I C I D E, it might be messy but it's money for free

I gotta kill myself, I gotta do's it quick
John entwistle sly, he was snorting arsenic
I keep taking all this coke to make me die
Doin' more drugs than they make in fuckin' I-C-I
It's the best way to go, don't think me dull
I'm not gonna fall off the roof like the flid rod hull
We want people to sing all our songs
And the nuns at saint Joseph's rappin' on smokin' bongs
We wanna be remembered when we're six feet under
For hip-hoppin' not robins fuckin' beatings or plunder
At the moment I'm not dead like David kampasey
Double platinum means you gotta be pushin' up daisies
Dad's army's all dead, every last one
But the cents are still going on BBC1
Yeah that's right I smoke draw from wales
Suicide's a good idea to improve vinyl sales

It's useless, it's crap, I'll never be in the sun
How can I be a pop star when I can't buy a gun?
Jimmy Morrison overdosed in the bath
I know, I'll hang myself with my scarf
Tied to the stairs, dangling by my neck
The cord length I forgot to check
Stuck it for a week, unable to shriek
The landlord found me and he called me a freak
He cut me down and started to laugh
'if you're dead next week gimme your autograph'
You know I thanked him, returned to my room
The new plan is to go out with a boom
To the station, with a petrol can
Five pound please, I say to the man
All set up and ready to burn
The wheel on my lighter just won't turn

Suicide is a suicyclebbbl
Suicide is a suicyclebbbl
Suicide is a suicyclebbbl, I wanna be famous after I die

Proven fact, man, if you're dead you sell more
That drummer from def leopard, his arm has made 30 times more than he has
You know our elvis? well, he's dead famous now and he's dead and he's fa
He's more famous now like
He's dead like you know, that's what it's all about like
It's fuckin' simple economics
They reckon bob marley's dead but he's not, man,
Cause he was on the TV last night, man
Just don't lie to me, man
I thought I was havin' a go at an overdose,
But I I I don't think you can overdose on beechams flu plus
I think one of the blokes off of dads army is still alive,
I think he's bumming martin in eastenders innit?
I'll get the ropes, and we'll tie them to the walls,
And we all jump off at the same time and break our necks
And we'll make at least 13 quid and you
Knows we'll be famous like fuckin' Gandhi
Or like the bloke off that sex film we seen


Lyrics submitted by cbennett

Self Suicide Lyrics as written by Christopher Dominic Edge Adam James William Sadler

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

Self Suicide song meanings
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4 Comments

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  • 0
    General Comment

    w4nking with a bag on yer head tied to a door that bloke from INXS he knew the score

    Michael Hutchence from INXS probably died performing auto-erotic asyphyxiation which is basically w4nking with a bag on yer head tied to a door. Not been confirmed but it's highly likely.

    cbennetton December 16, 2004   Link

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