Tekst piosenki
Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've heldit pays my way and it corrodes my soul I want to leave you will not miss me I want to go down in musical history, Oh.....Frankly, Mr Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck I've got the 21st century breathing down my neck I must move fast, you understand me I want to go down in celluloid history Oh.....Fame, fame, fatal fameit can play hideous tricks on the brainbut still I rather be famousthan righteous or holy, oh any day, any day, any day But sometimes I'd feel more fulfilledmaking Christmas cards with the mentally ill I want to live and I want to love I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of Oh...Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've heldit pays my way and it corrodes my soul oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry I didn't realise you wrote such fucking awful poetry Mr Shankly Frankly, Mr Shankly, since you askyou are a flatulent pain the ass I do not mean to be so rudebut still, I must speak frankly, Mr Shankly, OH give us money.






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