Cook The Fat Lyrics

Daddy's name's blue on Wikipedia

But she's as real as they come

A leashed mouthpiece for the media

They've got her pressed under their thumb

She's flying so close to divinity

But only banks rays for her own

The world where in we bend the truth

Is the one we call our home

Badly dressed posh zoomer twats

Fill the scene up past the brim

If I were like him I'd cook the fat

Tip my hat to mirror's sin

Saying so much but nowt at all

Well if that int just me

Will I say it right or miss the mark

We'll have to wait and see

Won't we