Hunting Bears is a complex song. A bear, as you know is another term for a chubby chaser. The guitar line is actually the sound of a fat man's thighs rubbing together as he approaches another lardy male for a night of sexual deviance.

Time is running out for us But you just move the hands upon the clock You throw coins in the wishing well For us You just move your hands upon the wall

Anybody can make 'good' music. I make terrible music, which is what makes it so different, and therefore better.

The allegations of me being a pedophile are spurious, at best. However I will admit that taking my knickers off in the park and having an Easter Egg hunt with those apple-cheeked four year olds was in my best interest and not theirs

I agree with whoever said Spice Girls are soft port. They're the antichrist.

My heart is a weatherballoon caught in an updraft of a chinese tax percentage, the tax percentages are unequivocaaaaaaaaaal, Unequivocaaaaaaaaal. This is the sort of lyrics you could never think of, loser. Here's a razorblade go cut yourself

15 Step is about how if you have mental illness and try to dance you look very funny. Whenever you see me dancing on stage, I'm imitating the mentally ill.