Having filled my personality on beer, ****, art and awkwardness
my lungs hung heavy and my morals were slightly isolated
as I briefly considered the most direct root
to this girl with the *******, and the possibility to access
which I knew would be quite the test, as I was by far the worst dressed
with my ripped up jeans and hair a mess.
So I finally let these thoughts digress, a decision that I know was best.
For you should not test the strength of my testosterone,  
It should always be firmly placed right back at home.

But it was at this moment where I noticed the difference between state and private school boys.
I was outside smoking the smallest, smuttiest rolled up cigarette
When a boy with a name like ‘Monty’ walked past holding a cigar the size of a jumbo jet,
The feelings I felt, both hate and detest,
As he waltzed right up to the girl with the *******, and muttered a charm under his breath.

So with a drunken heart, I went to order a ***** straight and smart.
But the bar was closed, and my song was sung, so with my head well hung and ego stung,
I left the kings and queens of that party, to fulfil their dreams.
As I fulfilled mine with a river gardens Chinese, the finest cuisine.