You're so out of the band it's sick. I mean, it's literally sickening how badly you're out of this band and how deeply we've wanted you out for the past three weeks. I'll never forget when you floundered onto the scene with your nappy-wearing starter guitar and that hamster cage of an amplifier, the shit dribbling down your chin and crusting on your Smash Mouth t-shirt. You're nothing but a dirty mongo, Samuel, a dirty fucking mongo.
The only reason you were ever allowed to jam with us, Christ, the only reason we kept you in the same room with us, was because we knew your ma had a 7-seater that could hold my savage new Marshall amp. Also cool was the fact that she was grand with us drinking cans and said she wouldn't tell our parents, your ma is actually quare sound for one of the holistic therapy types, too bad you're a little prick dangling off the placenta.
Sam, we're a real fucking metal band, right? We don't need the likes of you, a fucking casual, slobbering all over our invention like a brainless infant. I'll gladly do myself in if I ever have to hear Seven Nation Army thwacking from that poxy little amplifier like a series of contrived farts.We're going places, even more so now that you won't be stinking up the place with your novice wankery. Since dropping you, we've already opened up negotiations with a record label that really want to sign us. Yeah, that's right you fucking innocent little dweeb, we're getting signed by a major label and you won't be eating tits and smoking fags on the tour bus with us!
We've already got ourselves a new guitarist too. Paul, from second year. He can play Roots Bloody Roots without stopping and without looking at his guitar neck and it's fucking class. You couldn't even shite with your eyes closed you newbie mongo arsehole. His brother smokes grass and we expect to be smoking it soon ourselves too. Suck on that, creep. Check out or new setlist:
1. Roots Blood Roots (Cover)
2. Deep Within (Original)
3. Flower On Your Grave In Hell (Original)
4. Boulevard Of Broken Dreams (Cover)
5. Cut Myself With The Shards Of Your Picture Frame (Original)
Seeing as you've probably wrecked your keyboard with tears and vomit by now, I'll sign off by letting you know that none of the lads want to sit beside you in honours Irish anymore and they're going to go back to calling you "Gammy Sam", "Samburger" and "Sam with the shite holistic therapy treatment yolk for a ma". Better bring a rope with you to class, faggot, just in case you need to climb into your own arse for protection from our mammoth glory and golden fists.
Tony (Vocals), Paul (Guitar), Rory (Bass), Dan (Bass too, for a little while),
Otherwise known as The Demagogues of Girl Arse (DGA)