Buck-toothed FB Freaks

Met a man in a laundrette gift shop, he swore the things he said were true Haunting tales of anal bleaching out in the suburbs See gangs of buck-toothed facebook freaks sporting signed Eddie Maguire masks Stump fucking two-dollar shop King Kong piñatas And they say, and they say, and they say I'm not racist, some of my best friends are Casually racist, some of my best friends In desperate times they fall for disparate pleasures A rising tide of prancing feaux-ties all vying for tax exempt status Bears all the hallmarks of another inner city wife-swabbing craze where Patrioticons emerge from mancaves with alarming levels of testicular anger Seven degrees of separation from the king maker to king hitter And they say, and they say, and they say I'm not racist, some of my best friends are Old school mates I haven't seen in years, the pretty girls I used to fancy Who have really let themselves go, home alone while hubbie's out reading meters The fucker sticking up lost-dog posters and everyone waiting in line At the rose tattoo revival staring daggers at the boutique bigots Drinking 'locally sourced' almond milk with their cunting burgers All circle-hating to photos of Andrew Bolt licking his own fair skinned balls