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tim minchin - angry lyrics
don’t think. i think i repress a lot of stuff
like, not just my anxiety and stuff
but my anger and things… like…
i- i’m really non-confrontational
so i tend not to tell people when i’m feeling cross with them and whatever, and i think surely… i suffer because i don’t wanna… hurt other peoples feelings or something.
i went and saw a psychologist recently and talked to him about this, and he agreed that i need to find a way to express myself more… you know, when i feel angry with people.
so what he said i should do was write my feelings down. that way. expressing myself without confrontation.
so i’ve done that, i’ve written some of my feelings down in a poem. i think it might help if i could do it for you guys.
the poem is called angry. or, or or. in brackets feet…
bit nervous…
sometimes… sometimes i get a bit angry,
but you couldn’t tell.
no you couldn’t tell,
unless you looked real closely.
sometimes i get a big angry.
but it’s alright,
yes it’s alright,
because i keep it out of sight.
inside,
deep inside.
i breast-fed until i was 9.
which my …quack… doctor, says is fine.
and he also thinks i’d deal with anger better
if i wrote about myself in a poem or a letter.
my mother was a …real f-cking b-tch… caring lady.
she taught me all i know.
although i was a little slow,
she never gave up,
she never let me …slap… down.
although she spent a lot of time
at the neighbours house when my dad was out of town.
i didn’t walk ’til i was 7,
or talk ’til i was 10.
but neither did napolean,
according to my …quack f-cking… doctor.
who has certificates in frames
to substantiate his .dodgy f-cking… claims.
my father left my mother,
for the love of a …poontang… nother.
and i have a …b-st-rd… brother
who i’ve never really known.
because m’dad moved out to colac
bullsh-t you fat c-nt… telephone.
in primary school i had trouble making …ashtrays… friends.
an issue which has become somewhat of a trend.
the origin of which i cannot pretend
has not perplexed me.
although my …quack, f-cking… doctor says it’s cool
and that loads of …fat freaks… f-ck you!… kids at school
have problems with communication.
and that a course of medication
would be wise,
and combined with more honest self-expression,
could help me with my issues with emotional repression.
and at 90 bucks a session,
i think i’ll take the …thieving, quack, b-st-rd… lovely chaps advice.
so i quite like …p-rn… photography.
and books on …guns… history.
and i’d like to be a …politician… vet.
and i feel as i get older,
i’m more in control of my violent tendencies
and when i die …kill… die
i’ll have no regrets
and i feel that all this writing is really …poofy… exciting,
and my …quack, doc, quack, f-cking… doctor would be proud.
because i feel a lot less angry,
and i’m saying stuff out loud,
and i’m letting anger out.
like today in our last session;
when i taught the …quack… c-nt a lesson.
‘cuz he said i’m not progressing,
said i wasn’t moving forward.
so i said, “well let’s see how you move without your f-cking legs.”
and i tied him to his chair,
and i pulled out my machete.
and i listened to him beg,
and then i cut his f-cking feet off.
and while he lay there bleeding,
i used his feet…
to kick him in the head.
thank you …giggling c-nts… very much.
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