Poor (Spare) Bastard
Mummy died when you were twelve
No one left alive for the truth to tell
He was the illegitimate child
He was the illegitimate child
He was the illegitimate child
He was the illegitimate child
Poor bastard
Killed twenty five at twenty eight
Such an honour it is to go to war
Killed twenty five at twenty eight
Poor bastard
Poor spare bastard
Step brother put you on your ass Step brother put you on your ass
Married a washed up TV star
Poor spare bastard
Poor bastard
Married a washed up TV star
Married a washed up TV star
Married a washed up TV star
Gold digging witch queen, got you by the short hairs
Drags you 'round, lap dog boy
Ritchie rich your leeching bitch
Manipulation your mind is twisted
You ain't even you father's son Your real mummies gone gone gone
Poor spare bastard
He was the illegitimate child
He was the illegitimate child
So hard being privileged
So difficult to be so rich
Stop your whining little boy
Us paupers know there ain't no point
Hunger hatred poverty
Feel free to take that back
You entitled whinging bastard
Monarchy is a thing of the past
Royalty is a pain in the ass
Incest rape and child abuse
Murder, hatred no excuse
Bastards
No one left alive for the truth to tell
He was the illegitimate child
He was the illegitimate child
He was the illegitimate child
He was the illegitimate child
Poor bastard
Killed twenty five at twenty eight
Such an honour it is to go to war
Killed twenty five at twenty eight
Poor bastard
Poor spare bastard
Step brother put you on your ass Step brother put you on your ass
Married a washed up TV star
Poor spare bastard
Poor bastard
Married a washed up TV star
Married a washed up TV star
Married a washed up TV star
Gold digging witch queen, got you by the short hairs
Drags you 'round, lap dog boy
Ritchie rich your leeching bitch
Manipulation your mind is twisted
You ain't even you father's son Your real mummies gone gone gone
Poor spare bastard
He was the illegitimate child
He was the illegitimate child
So hard being privileged
So difficult to be so rich
Stop your whining little boy
Us paupers know there ain't no point
Hunger hatred poverty
Feel free to take that back
You entitled whinging bastard
Monarchy is a thing of the past
Royalty is a pain in the ass
Incest rape and child abuse
Murder, hatred no excuse
Bastards
Credits
Writer(s): Charles Cooley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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