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FTSE: Brits Abroad

‘Brits Abroad’ will be released as part of FTSE’s anticipated debut album Joyless on 28th August 2015.  It’s a tongue in cheek examination of what is arguably our largest export – the loved and loathed “Lads on Tour”.

The video, premiered by Noisey, revolves around found footage and images co-ordinated with the sharp lyrics and sardonic wit in the song.

‘Brits Abroad’ will be released as part of FTSE’s anticipated debut album Joyless on 28th August 2015, through Lucky Number. It’s a tongue in cheek examination of what is arguably our largest export – the loved and loathed “Lads on Tour”.

Brits abroad, lads and girls on tour,

We don’t have any manners, we just want to get hammered and score,
And that’s all.

My life is so mundane and work’s a fucking pain in the arse,
Even though I do the minimum required, and I never work hard.
I live with my parents and don’t pay rent,
Wages are for the weekend getting spent,
This country’s a fucking prison,
Whatever happened to freedom?
All I wanna do is get fucked, fuck someone and beat someone into submission.
It’s my right to do what I like but I can’t get away with it unless I call a cell home for the night.
So I fuck off on a plane somewhere I can’t pronounce, with a bunch of me mates all loud mouths,
Party starts at the airport, tax free vodka and a crate of export.
Arrive so pissed that I can’t stand up, get to the hotel and manned up,
Straight back out to get fucked up.
Drinks are so cheap here I buy 2 at a time, 2 shots, 2 mixers and 2 pints.
I’m fucking wild.
Everyone’s out for the same thing,
A mate for the night and a headache for the morning.
It’s mating season, single out your victim,
Prove that I am more masculine than him,
Like animals the dominant male always wins.
Chat up lines, how you doing darling?
Stumble cross the bar,
No shame after 6 pints of carling,
Half a gram of charlie, 2 shots of tequila and a hard on.
You can get away with murder in this place.

Brits abroad, lads and girls on tour,
We don’t have any manners, we just want to get hammered and score,
And that’s all.

Welcome to the dancefloor,
It’s like an orgy of immature young adults acting like outlaws.
Oh wait, no that is what it is,
But who cares man cus I’m getting stuck in.
I wouldn’t do this at home but here I can cover myself in nutella,
Then rub my body all over another fella,
Heard it turns the girls on and while I’m here man I’m down for whatever.
So they might not speak English,
But they understand international sign language,
For your mouth and my dick.
Or what the fuck are you doing you prick!
What the fuck are you doing?

No officer he started it,
Look I swear man, I’m not even pissed.
I don’t give a fuck, yolo.
I’m an adventurer like a contemporary, small minded Marco Polo.
Doing crazy shit, foam parties, funny tattoos and drinking games.
I’m so individual I’ve even got a secret handshake and a nickname.

Brits abroad, lads and girls on tour,
We don’t have any manners, we just want to get hammered and score,
And that’s all.

Sun, sea, sand and STI’s.

Fell asleep on the beach, now I look like a lobster in a stupid floppy hat,
My head’s fucking banging and I lost my towel, the one with the union jack.
The food’s fucking weird here, the men kiss each other, and I ain’t gonna lie.
No it’s too fucking hot, the AC’s bust, can’t wait get to get home now England til I die.