Why all the Jager, you don't have a cough
Stop drinking Pinot Grigio, you look like a toff
You only like your ale when it's brewed in a sock
So sip your f*cking mocktails you pretentious cock!
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
Sat in a bus lane, too far gone, mate
It's good the 67 doesn't drive here this late
We would have got a taxi, but last time you blundered
We were about to get in and then you f*cking chundered
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
I'm not saying that ignorance is bliss
All I'm saying is drunkenness is
I'm not saying that ignorance is bliss
All I'm saying is "f*cking down it"!
Barely get your keys in, and you stumble through the door
And after just a few steps, you're on the kitchen floor. (Ah, shit.)
Turn on late-night telly, and you focus on the screen
You see yourself on "Bouncers", now you know where you've been!
(Uh, 'scuse me mate, could you step out the taxi, please?)
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
Two Pounds Twenty Video (MV)
Skadown - Two Pounds Twenty Lyrics
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Why all the Jager, you don't have a cough
Stop drinking Pinot Grigio, you look like a toff
You only like your ale when it's brewed in a sock
So sip your f*cking mocktails you pretentious cock!
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
Sat in a bus lane, too far gone, mate
It's good the 67 doesn't drive here this late
We would have got a taxi, but last time you blundered
We were about to get in and then you f*cking chundered
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
I'm not saying that ignorance is bliss
All I'm saying is drunkenness is
I'm not saying that ignorance is bliss
All I'm saying is "f*cking down it"!
Barely get your keys in, and you stumble through the door
And after just a few steps, you're on the kitchen floor. (Ah, shit.)
Turn on late-night telly, and you focus on the screen
You see yourself on "Bouncers", now you know where you've been!
(Uh, 'scuse me mate, could you step out the taxi, please?)
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
Stop drinking Pinot Grigio, you look like a toff
You only like your ale when it's brewed in a sock
So sip your f*cking mocktails you pretentious cock!
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
Sat in a bus lane, too far gone, mate
It's good the 67 doesn't drive here this late
We would have got a taxi, but last time you blundered
We were about to get in and then you f*cking chundered
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
I'm not saying that ignorance is bliss
All I'm saying is drunkenness is
I'm not saying that ignorance is bliss
All I'm saying is "f*cking down it"!
Barely get your keys in, and you stumble through the door
And after just a few steps, you're on the kitchen floor. (Ah, shit.)
Turn on late-night telly, and you focus on the screen
You see yourself on "Bouncers", now you know where you've been!
(Uh, 'scuse me mate, could you step out the taxi, please?)
We've had five too many, too drunk to stand
In the middle of the high street with our heads in our hands
It's not big nor clever, to forget to remember
You're not an oxymoron, just the last five letters!
Writer: Jack Coles, Matt Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid