He said he'd be here at seven The clock just hit 7:22 It's too cold outside To wait for my ride Watching mamma try out a new doo (Bruins)
He said he'd be here at seven But it just hit 7:35 (already?) Here in Brockton, Mass., I got my thumb in my ass Mamma's combing up a big beehive (Celtics)
Where the fuck is he? Where the fuck is he?
The bitch doesn't even bother calling Even though it's 7:44 (I fell asleep, pally) I'm feeling kinda antsy Mamma's getting fancy Slicking back a wet pompadour (Red Sox)
He said he'd be here at seven It's closing in on 8:01 (Trimmin' the 'stache, kid) Me lookin' like a sap In a wool knit cap Mamma's next move is a bun (fuckin' Patriots)
Where the fuck is he? (My pants are still in the dryer, dude) Where the fuck is he? (I couldn't find my fuckin' snowboots, pal) I wish I had a car (Huge, huge hangover) Oh, no (Massive hailstorm, massive hailstorm, massive)
That stupid little punk He's probably fuckin' drunk I bet he drank a case Want to pop him in the face right now Mamma's eyebrow
Wicked good Wicked good (Oh, GOD) Wicked good Wicked good (Fuck yeah) Wicked good Wicked good (Pisser?)
Well my friend is still a no-show And I'm getting fucking pissed (Why?) 'Cause I could've gone with Charlie In the side of his Harley Mamma's on the phone with a stylist (Fuck Charlie!)
So I guess I ain't going out tonight 'Cause the digits say 12:09 (Shit-faced) But call the operator 'Cause one perm later Mamma's hair sure do look fine (Heffenreffer!!!)
Where the fuck is he? (Ah, ha ha! My stepfather was tellin' me a wicked funny joke!) Where the fuck is he? (Ah, ha ha! I forgot it though)
I wish I had a car I wish I had a car (A cop pulled me over, buddy)
I wish I went with Charlie (5.2 blood level, state record) I could have gone with Charlie (I'm in a wicked mess of trouble, ha ha!)
He gotta dee wee He gotta dee wee He gotta dee wee He got a D.W.I.