Eksie ou - Jack Parow

Eksie eksie ou

E-e-e-e-eksie ou

Eksie eksie ou

E-e-e-e-eksie ou

Hello (x2)

Voor die gym voor dit opmaak, met 'n protein shake

2ure op die treadmill anders is ons spyt

Men’s Health covers, voel altyd fokken great

Want al wat regtig tel in die lewe is hoe jy lyk

In die bed teen 8uur met 'n goeie fokken boek

Groot in die bolyf, maar lig in die broek

Tel die Energade op, brandy moet jy neersit

Hang nog by clubs uit al is ons amper 40

Date net dom blondes, want dis fokken maklik

Probeer heeltyd diep wees, maar bly oppervlakig

Lifestyle centres en Clinique for men

Lifestyle blogs, lyk soos Barbie se Ken

Pims en fokken lemonade, Kauai en Buzz

Nul personality, life enhancing drugs

So klap jou fokken hanne vir die moffies met die guns

En kom soek Parow by die bar as jy lus is vir 'n man

Sit heel voor in die kerk, ons lewe bo ons ryk

Ons bid alweer werk, die bediende moet mos stryk

Kaarte by Woolworths en Edgars accounts

Country Road vat my huis toe, die last boy scout

Nog 'n huisie in 'n kompleks, twee karre innie garage

Mugg en Bean breakfasts, eet net Ceaser salaads

Bybel in die handsak, maar as dit moeilik gaan dan skei ons

Cafe op die straat hoek, maar as ons iets soek dan ry ons

Mannies en peddies, botox en lifts

Tuinboys en nannies, mouldy en miff

Ons huis lyk soos 'n ad vir Mr.

Price Home

Ons almal fokken lyk soos moerse nice clones

Getroud met Mr.

Min, gemis deur min

Bloed rooi fokken lipstick en hare mooi geperm

Familie vakansies op Knysna of Plett

Asb kan iemand ons net fokken red

Ons dra brille sonder lense, bly in open plan flats

Vol bal en klou tafels en opgerolde yoga mats

Side path hairstyles en sailor tattoos

Ons Facebook vol gepak van fotos van on shoes

Rook net tabak deur ou oom pype

Dit proe dalk soos kak maar dit lyk baie greater

Nog 'n kak fotograaf, nog 'n Ice fokken model

Nog 'n graphic designer, nog 'n Valpre bottle

Vintage fokken klere, ryk soos homeless shelters

Probeer almal different wees, maar lyk die fokken selfde

Praat met n aksent maar kom van die kaap af

Jy kan ons drop in 'n music video straight vanie straat af

Ons almal speel in bands, maar speel nooit fokken shows nie

Ons is almal self-conscious omdat niemand ons onthou nie

Nog 'n band uit die paarl, nog 'n waste of space

Nog 'n and Union bier, nog fokol om te wys

Sandwich by Superette, wyn by Power and the Glory

Meestal by die bar want ons lewens is te boring

Nog 'n klein bietjie makeup, lyk soos 'n post mortom

Nog 'n pose, nog 'n smile, nog 'n album op We Are Awesome

Action exie old

E-e-e-e-eksie ou

Action exie old

E-e-e-e-eksie ou

Hello (x2)

In front of the gym before making it up, with a protein shake

2 hours on the treadmill otherwise we are sorry

Men's Health covers, always feel fucking great

Because all that really counts in life is how you look

In bed at 8am with a good fucking book

Large in the upper body, but light in the trousers

Pick up the Energade, brandy you have to put down

Still hanging out at clubs even though we are almost 40

Do not date stupid blondes, because it's fucking easy

Try to be deep all the time, but stay superficial

Lifestyle centers in Clinique for men

Lifestyle blogs, look like Barbie's Ken

Pims and Fucking Lemonade, Kauai and Buzz

Zero personality, life enhancing drugs

So clap your fucking hands for the moffies with the favor

And come look for Parow at the bar if you fancy a man

Sit at the very front of the church, we live above our empire

We pray for work again, the servant must iron

Cards at Woolworths and Edgars accounts

Country Road takes me home, the last boy scout

Another cottage in a complex, two cars in garage

Mugg and Bean Breakfasts, Do Not Eat Ceaser Salads

Bible in the handbag, but if it's going to be difficult then we separate

Cafe on the street corner, but if we're looking for something then we drive

Mannies and peddies, botox and lifts

Garden boys and nannies, moldy and miff

Our house looks like an ad for Mr.

Price Home

We all fucking look like morse nice clones

Married to Mr.

Few, missed by few

Blood red fucking lipstick and hair nicely paired

Family holidays in Knysna or Plett

Please can someone fucking save us

We wear glasses without lenses, stay in open plan flats

Full ball and claw tables and rolled up yoga mats

Side path hairstyles and sailor tattoos

Our Facebook packed with photos of on shoes

Just smoke tobacco through old uncle pipes

It may taste like shit but it looks much bigger

Another shit photographer, another Ice fucking model

Another graphic designer, another Valpre bottle

Vintage fucking clothes, rich as homeless shelters

Trying to be all different, but the fucking looks the same

Speak with an accent but come from the Cape

You can drop us off in a music video straight down the street

We all play in bands, but never play fucking shows

We are all self-conscious because no one remembers us

Another band from Paarl, another waste of space

Another and Union beer, another fokol to show

Sandwich by Superette, wine by Power and the Glory

Mostly at the bar because our lives are too boring

Another little bit of makeup, looks like a post mortom

Another pose, another smile, another album on We Are Awesome