Shall I slash my wrists, or should I go for a slash?
I want to taste the November rain, but to the toilets I must dash
I'm hungry for attention, but I'm full up from this pain
A Big Mac now don't sound so bad, but the taste ain't quite the same
I wanna touch the fire, but the flames are frightfully hot
It's too much for my soft skin to bear and I don't wanna burst my spots
I wanna roll the dice and put my lucky penny in the slot
I wanna take you higher, but you do not
I need you to fill me up. I need you to fill me up
I'm hurting, I'm bursting. I'm hurting, I'm bursting inside
I need you to fill me up. I need you to fill me up
I'm hurting, I'm bursting. I'm hurting, I'm bursting inside
Now is not the time for urinating in the streets
I don't want to risk an eighty pound fine from the council scum or police
I have no option, but a long queue I must join
This pain is undescribable - it's too much for my groin
Shall I phone a friend or ask the audience?
I've already used my 50/50 through lack of intelligence
I'm on five hundred pounds, there's still a long way to go
Chris Tarrant is eyeing me suspiciously and to the advert break we must go
I need you to fill me up. I need you to fill me up
I'm hurting, I'm bursting. I'm hurting, I'm bursting inside
I need you to fill me up. I need you to fill me up
I'm hurting, I'm bursting. I'm hurting, I'm bursting inside
I need you to fill me up. I need you to fill me up
I'm hurting, I'm bursting. I'm hurting, I'm bursting inside
I need you to fill me up. I need you to fill me up
I'm hurting, I'm bursting. I'm hurting, I'm bursting inside
You're the juice and I'm the cup
And I want you to fill me up, fill me up, fill me up...
You're the juice and I'm the cup
And I want you to fill me up!
I need you to fill me up. I need you to fill me up
I'm hurting, I'm bursting. I'm hurting, I'm bursting inside
I need you to fill me up. I need you to fill me up
I'm hurting, I'm bursting. I'm hurting, I'm bursting inside
Release notes:
All words and music by Bri Jnr. & Tico Jnr.
Bri Jnr. excitedly explained:
My best song writing ideas occur to one's self when one is in motion - in the case of this tearjerker, the lyrical theme and chorus occurred to me whilst I was frantically pedalling my penny farthing homeward bound after a trip to the local florists. Part of the reason for the frantic pedalling was due to my bladder being in the titular state. Once I reached my destination and made a dash for the convenience, the relief I felt was stratospheric. So much so, I forgot to wash my hands before writing the chorus lyric onto a sheet of Andrex.
Once I brought the idea to Tico, we expanded on the lyrical theme to include a 'shout out' to Chris Tarrant and recall Tico's experience on 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?'. We agreed that a key change was necessary to help extend the song to double its original length and give Tico a golden opportunity to wield his axe and finger numerous frets in a gymnastic fashion. The 'stair lift to heaven' sequence was the only logical way to ensure a natural key change. It was also to ensure that Westlife would have no idea when to rise together from their stools when their inevitable cover version would eventually materialise.
Tico's officially declared favourite vocal performance of mine, thanks for operatic heights I reach near the end of the song. What a wonder (a-wonder) he thought.
Tico Jnr. quips:
I often wondered why Bri would keep a dirty tissue in his pocket, stopping frequently to have the 'sweet smell of success'. I thought he maybe had some lavender lotion or something on his rag, but it turns out it was his pissy fingers that had been all over it. Luckily, I declined to have a snort as I've smelt success before I can take it or leave it with what it.
Experienced musicians may have seen - or indeed heard - that I used an antique glockenspiel for the recording of the guitar solo. The recording was then manipulated with some tricks to get it to sound as dashing as it does. Thanks to the thrill this provided me, I've often reverted to using the glockenspiel during our live performances for all my guitar work. I keep the gurning to my face though; never do I use a replacement for that.
I have noticed over the years that the Twitterati have complained about trying to sing or perform this song. They have eitherrun out of energy and been taken away in an ambulance, or just fell asleep. It would seem it is impossible for any amateur to end this song without a fade-out (instrumental or otherwise). I've managed to fashion a technique where I defecate on stage, providing a subtle yet apt ending. During one performance I managed to make eye contact with 17 people during the 'ending'.
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