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Dogshit City

by The Non-Nonconformists

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about

An ode describing how it seems when fortune is not quite smiling at you.

lyrics

Like a dog chasing his tail.
Clearly I was born to fail.
Trying hard but to no avail.
The world's just one big jail.
Last in every race.
Another day of this I can hardly face.
A million miles off the required pace.
Again I'm in dire straits.
Around my neck hang ten ton weights.
And I'm spinning umpteen plates.

Shat on. spat on, punched, kicked.
Treated like a convict.
Everything's burnt out , derelict.
My future I don't want to predict.
Positivity used up, stuff all nicked.
As the fall guy I must have been picked.

Nothing's pretty in Dog Shit City.
Yeah nothing's pretty in Dog Shit City.

All my hope away it does trickle.
And again the devil does me tickle.
After yet another blunder.
Again I wonder.
At life I must have picked the short straw.
Though through another day I somehow crawl.

So far from where I wanna be.
Abandoned by society.
To misery I am glued.
Permanent low mood.
Now I just sit around and brood.
Oh I am so screwed.

Mixed all the colours.
Got brown.
I'm so tired.
Of being the clown.
Sorry for letting.
Me and you down.

I gotta burnt on frown.

Nothing's pretty in Dog Shit City.
Yeah nothing's pretty in Dog Shit City.

I gotta burnt on frown.

Shat on. spat on, punched, kicked.
Treated like a convict.
Everything's burnt out, derelict.
My future I don't want to predict.

Shat on. spat on, punched, kicked.
Treated like a convict.
Everything's burnt out , derelict.
My future I don't want to predict.

Shat on. spat on, punched, kicked.
Treated like a convict.
Everything's burnt out , derelict.
My future I don't want to predict.

credits

released October 13, 2020
Music Richie Burrell
Lyrics & vox Alex Peat

license

all rights reserved

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about

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The Non-Nonconformists London, UK

Aspirant conformists lost in clown world. Mr Non Non diarises his miserable failures, futile hopes and gruesome punishments at the hands of fate in musical (?) form.

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