Fidge

by No Matter

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02:38
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(free) 02:33

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released March 13, 2012

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No Matter Belfast, UK

No Matter is a Belfast based quartet playing fast-paced male/female fronted pop punk. Come listen and leave abuse.

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Track Name: Hateful
The first time that I met you,
I didn't like your face.
Every memory of you
I wish I could erase.
That pious, smug smile you do
You always think you're right.
Get the fuck out of my life.
Get the fuck out of my sight.

Your pious face makes me want to spew.
The only thing I want to say to you is...

You're hateful, I don't like you.
You're hateful, every single thing you do
Is hateful and brash to me.
Stay the fuck away from me.

I haven't seen you for a while,
The best while of my life.
If there's any justice in the world
You're lying on a knife.
I'm sorry if this seems so harsh,
Vindictive, unfair,
But my blood boils as I pen this song
I feel I must declare...
Track Name: Your Band Is Shit
The first time I saw your band I wished that I had passed
The blatant similarities you employ left me aghast
I was struggling to neck my drink and exit out the door
Every single riff I heard, I heard it all before

Please don't take offence, it's only me
Sorry I don't want your shit CD

Your band is shit, I must admit
Your stupid songs, they sound all wrong
Your band is shit, I don't like it
Why don't you fucking quit?

Your songs are all the same, the structures bear no class
You bottom feeding fucker, go shove it up your ass
The CD that you gave me is getting dusty on my shelf
Allow me to invite you to go fuck yourself

Your lyrics reflect the dick head that you truly are inside
Do us all a favour and consider suicide
Your songs evoke the image of observing drying paint
Please realise, a rock star you ain't.

I invite you to bite me.
I invite you to fight me.
You fucking suck!
Track Name: Retch
Sit back, watch me wilt, stick it in 'til the hilt
Don't worry, don't mind me
A lost unique stare, fucked beyond compare
Got used to misery
Kicked to the street, too drunk to find my feet
Routine broke again
Rotten to the core, back aching from the floor
Daily grind my friend

And nothing goes well when you're living in hell's
Familiar trashy streets.
Is it far fetched, maybe a stretch,
That it makes me want to retch?
I'm burning, I'm burning.

Now take it from this prodigal son,
Don't entertain your thoughts with notions that
You're something I lack,
'Cause nothing could be more false.
Take it somewhere else, to your lies I won't adhere.
Your words reek of sin.
Go vomit foul conjecture in someone else's ear.
Mine are at the brim.

It makes me want to retch.
It makes me want to retch.