Tekster: Stephen Lynch. 3 Balloons. Fishin' Hole.
Wanna have some quality time with my son
So I brought him down to the fishin' hole
Didn't like the feelin' of that worm in his hand
Got mad, threw down his fishin' pole
Said, "That's alright, son. Let's go and get an ice cream"
"Let your old man buy you a treat"
But he didn't like no flavors up upon that wall
Started crying, and ran into the street...
He's an asshole, my kid's an asshole
I swear it just don't float my boat
Always crying, always crying
Made me wanna punch him in his little throat
Called my lady up to tell her what had happened
How our son had run away
She said, "Don't worry, baby, I will talk to him"
"And everything will be okay"
My lady's an asshole, she's an asshole
Her assholishness is off the charts
Always perfect, always perfect
Made me wanna punch her in her lady-parts
I decided I'd go down to the bar
And drown my sorrows in a beer
But the sign outside said 'Closed For Renovations'
'We'll open up again next year'...
That bar is an asshole, it's an asshole
Oh, the worst bar in the land!
Always closing, always closing
Can't punch a bar, cause you'll hurt your hand
I went home to forget about my troubles
Sat down in my favorite eazy chair
But I couldn't relax from the pain I was feelin'
As my hemorrhoid began to flair...
My asshole's an asshole, a real butthole
Needs to put his asshole-self in check!
Always burning, always itching
Made me wanna punch him in his asshole neck
Late one night, lyin' awake in bed
Mmmm, a realization came
Are there really assholes everywhere I look?
Or am I the one to blame?
Maybe I just do not say the things I should say
And I don't do the things I ought
So I took a good, hard look at myself in the mirror
And this is what I thought...
The guy who sold me this mirror is an asshole, he's an asshole
Son of a bitch said it was antique
He was lyin', he was lyin'
Made me wanna punch him in his salesman cheek
I'm on a real asshole streak
I could open up an asshole boutique
I think this song has reached its peak
Goodbye, you assholes, see you next week!
So I brought him down to the fishin' hole
Didn't like the feelin' of that worm in his hand
Got mad, threw down his fishin' pole
Said, "That's alright, son. Let's go and get an ice cream"
"Let your old man buy you a treat"
But he didn't like no flavors up upon that wall
Started crying, and ran into the street...
He's an asshole, my kid's an asshole
I swear it just don't float my boat
Always crying, always crying
Made me wanna punch him in his little throat
Called my lady up to tell her what had happened
How our son had run away
She said, "Don't worry, baby, I will talk to him"
"And everything will be okay"
My lady's an asshole, she's an asshole
Her assholishness is off the charts
Always perfect, always perfect
Made me wanna punch her in her lady-parts
I decided I'd go down to the bar
And drown my sorrows in a beer
But the sign outside said 'Closed For Renovations'
'We'll open up again next year'...
That bar is an asshole, it's an asshole
Oh, the worst bar in the land!
Always closing, always closing
Can't punch a bar, cause you'll hurt your hand
I went home to forget about my troubles
Sat down in my favorite eazy chair
But I couldn't relax from the pain I was feelin'
As my hemorrhoid began to flair...
My asshole's an asshole, a real butthole
Needs to put his asshole-self in check!
Always burning, always itching
Made me wanna punch him in his asshole neck
Late one night, lyin' awake in bed
Mmmm, a realization came
Are there really assholes everywhere I look?
Or am I the one to blame?
Maybe I just do not say the things I should say
And I don't do the things I ought
So I took a good, hard look at myself in the mirror
And this is what I thought...
The guy who sold me this mirror is an asshole, he's an asshole
Son of a bitch said it was antique
He was lyin', he was lyin'
Made me wanna punch him in his salesman cheek
I'm on a real asshole streak
I could open up an asshole boutique
I think this song has reached its peak
Goodbye, you assholes, see you next week!
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