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<<<Cosmopolitan Lyrics>>>

Poison by Bidet

We auditioned for a TV show
Now we are stars everywhere we go
This Popstars thing is a real life dream
The new century's young talent team.
You say that we're a manipulated scheme
But real manipulation is insidious but never seen

Don't feel bad for me, I'm happy as can be
Everybody knows I'm exploited
What's happening to me, creative hysterectomies
I don't give a rats I'm exploited.

We'll keep this thing together until out team implodes.
Most get 15 minutes we've got 15 episodes
We're starting out, we're easy to mold
That's probably cause we're not very old
But when we've made it there will be a switch
To acting like that Barbra Streisand bitch

You make think we end the series with a happy glow
But we're hanging out to have that scragfight with Jackie O

Screw you and your theories, at least we've got a series
Honey don't tell me I'm exploited.
We'll keep hugging and a kissing, 'til someone's stuff goes missing
You should be so lucky, exploited.
And maybe if I'm canny, I'll be Kylie not a Danni,.
Everybody starts out exploited
I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky to be exploited.
Exploited.

***

Please step in young man and tell me why you think you're perfect for this job
Is that your application there if I look closely through your pants there's your…oh sorry your name is Bob.

Miss woman who gives jobs out, im here to state my case. You should give me this position I've got such a pretty face.

Cause im gorgeous baby!
But honey can you type? I need someone who types.
I'm so utterly goddamn gorgeous baby
But you're thick as lead pipes.

I've got no references to speak of, I'm often drunk and always late
I'm a non proactive non team player, can't use Windows 98.
Slow and indicisive, disloyalty is me, aint got no vision statement, can't make no cup of tea.

But im gorgeous baby!
But honey can you type I need 64 words per minute.
Im so utterly goddamn gorgeous baby
But you're thick, thick as lead pipes.

I like the way you take the time to match your shoes with your belt- its very nice.
Your colour is so freshy starched, your buns are firm and tight
But we havent got a job for a man whose brain is Diet Light
But your gorgeous baby! Do you wanna stay the night?
I'll teach you how to type it only takes two fingers, oh that's right.

You're gorgeous baby!
I wanna **** you lik ean animal
I wanna feel you from the inside
Take this dictation now….

I said honey, honey can you type?

***

I want I want I want to be a man
I want to be a big tough guy
I want I want I want to be a man
Oh god and so do I

I want to drink piss I wanna tongue kiss
A blonde in a Wonderbra
She says "I'll see you nextweek"
I say "Bitch don't you speak"
Cause im thinking how to fix my car.

I want I want I want to be a man
I wanna have a big packed lunch
I want I want I want to be a man
I wanna eat meat not brunch

I wanna watch footy with a slab of VB, I wanna spew out of my nose
When it hits the carpet floor and my girlfriend and the door,
I'll clean it with the garden hose.

I wanna play darts do big lumpy farts
Get down and dirty in ya face
I wanna live like a piggy, light up lots of ciggies
Have mum do my washing and bring it to my place.

I want I want I want to be a man
I wanna scratch my bum
I want I want I want to be a man
Oh god that sounds like fun.

***

Its freshly grated parmesian, my thumbs in there as well
My fingers rimmed in bandaids, cooked your spaghetti with bloodenaise
I try so hard to be your living oyster with a pearl
Thank god for magazines to teach me how to be a girl

Tra la la la la la la la ohh hoo
Tra la la la la la la la ahh ahh
Tra la la la la la la la he he
Tra la la la la la la la

They tell me what to eat, they tell me what to drink
They tell me what to wear, they tell me what to think
They tell me how a magic finger jab can hurt like hell
Thank god for magazines to show me how to be a girl.

Tra la la la la la la la ahh ahh
Tra la la la la la la la yeah
Tra la la la la la la la woo hoo
Tra la la la la la la la

They tell me what to lift if I am saggy
They show me even movie stars are scraggy
They show me how to reach me inner slag-y
With the many wonderous ways to shag- yippee

Tra la la la la la la la ohh hoo
Tra la la la la la la la oh yeah
Tra la la la la la la la
Tra la la la la la la la

Its freshly grated parmesian, my thumbs in there as well
My fingers rimmed in bandaids, cooked your spaghetti with bloodenaise
I mightn't be a cook but I can make my lashes curl
Thanks god for magazines to teach me how to be a girl

Tra la la la la la la la oh hoo
Tra la la la la la la la yeah
Tra la la la la la la la oo hoo
Tra la la la la la la la

I look good in a shag I can make my lashes curl (Tra la la la la la la la)
I look good in a shag I can make a manunfurl (Tra la la la la la la la)
Thank god for magazines woo hoo thank god for magazines (Tra la la la la la la la)
Thank god for magazines to teach me how to be a girl (Tra la la la la la la la)

***

Libby's addiction

I'm a very proper person, I like things to be nice
Everything in moderation, that's how I run my heist
I like a little cricket, I like to take a punt
But when I watch the rugger
I swear like a ****ing ****

I like to set the table with my silver crockery
I stick my little finger up when drinking cups of tea
I write to my Nanna, like to help those in a rut
But i have a small addiction I swear like a ****ing slut

CHORUS
Why don't you all get ****ed your ****ing asshole, dirty bastard stick it up your clacker
Mr. Dicky's fat ass, right, you can all be gone to buggery and slam it where it hurts
Up your asshole Mr. Whippy Pardon me, I've had a lapse.

It can happen in the morning it can happen late at night
At the footy, in the car At a function so polite
Rich, i'll be doing awfully well, then the urge will come on quick
I'll be swearing like a trouper
Up your **** face slag i'll sit.

CHORUS
Why don't you all get ****ed your ****ing asshole, dirty bastard stick it up your clacker
Mr. Dicky's fat ass, right, you can all be gone to buggery and slam it where it hurts
Up your asshole Mr. Whippy Pardon me, I've had a lapse.

Now steady on young lady, that language makes me sick
My little kids can hear you, they're only 5 and 6
I'd prefer they're not exposed to such revolting filthy muck
You need to wash your mouth out
'Hey Dad why don't you get ****ed?

Yeah Richard..
Why don't you all get ****ed your ****ing asshole, dirty bastard stick it up your clacker
Mr. Dicky's fat ass, right, you can all be gone to buggery and slam it where it hurts
Up your asshole Mr. Whippy Pardon me, I've had a lapse.