Lot of knots, lot of snags,
lot of holes, lot of cracks, lot of crags
Lot of naggin' old hags,
lot of fools, lot of fool scum bags.
Oh it's such a drag! what a chore...
all your wounds are full of salt.
Everything's a stress and what's more,
well it's all somebody's fault.
Hey! Get, Get, Get, Get, Get over it
Hey! Get, Get, Get, Get, Get over it
Hey! Get, Get, Get, Get, Get over it
Get over it, Get over it, ohh
Makes you sick, makes you ill,
makes you cheat, slipping change from the till.
Had it up to the gills... makes you cry,
while the milk still spills.
Ain't it just a bitch? What a pain...
Well it's all a crying shame.
What left to do but complain?
Better find someone to blame.
Hey! Get, Get, Get, Get, Get over it
Hey! Get, Get, Get, Get, Get over it
Hey! Get, Get, Get, Get, Get over it
Get over it, Get over it, oh
Got a job, got a life,
got a four-door and a faithless wife.
Got those nice copper pipes,
got an ex, got a room for the night.
Aren't you such a catch? What a prize
Got a body like a battle axe...
Love that perfect frown, honest eyes...
We ought to buy you a Cadillac.
Taken from AlbumSongAndLyrics.com
Hey! Get, Get, Get, Get, Get over it
(x6)
Get over it, Get over it, ohhhh