I would be a liar if I pretended to admire
The redlight windscreen cleaning empire that you've built
But my heart is good, it's not a thing of stone or wood
I'll give you 50 cents to take away my guilt

I give money to folk that just don't have enough
To try to justify the future purchases of stuff
That I don't need, I know that one less vodka cranberry tonight
And I could feed some foreign family for a fortnight
But I might just have one more
After all, what is vodka for?
Apart from making you want to shag your best mate's wife
And dampening the guilt you feel about your perfect life

Fuck the poor, What is all this hoo-hah for?
There's only one reason that I'll phone 1800 034 034
It's the force that drove Teresea, and that school that Opera built
I'll give you 50 bucks to take away my guilt

Fuck the poor, I'm not pretending anymore
That I really give two shits about some kids in Bagalor
I'm more interested in footie, than seeing the Solomons rebuilt
But I'll give you 50 bucks to take away my guilt
I'll give you 50 bucks to take away my guit

Send "The Guilt Song" Ringtone to your Cell