I Hate accords

             C                      F
Well, I hate racist blokes, telling tasteless jokes,
     C                      G
And explaining where people belong.
       C                        F
I hate ignorant folks, who pay money to see gigs,
    G                          C
And talk through every fucking song.
       Am                    F
I hate people in nightclubs, snorting coke,
    C                            G
And explaining where you're going wrong.
      Am                 F
Well, if you agree, come hate it with me,
     G                C
And feel free to sing along.

            F    C   G   C
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc.
            F    C   G
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc

C   F   C   G   x2

   C                         F
And I hate pointless status updates on Facebook,
    C            G
'FYI', we were never m8s.
   C                   F
We pretend to be friends on the internet,
    G                             C
Yet when in real life we have nothing to say,
    Am                    F
Oh, brother, I've love for my mother,
   C                   G
For good times, for music and for my mates.
  Am                       F
Yeah, I love and I live, and I have love to give,
   G                  C
But sometimes, all you can do is hate.

            F    C   G   C
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc.
            F    C   G
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc

  F
I hate them fussy eaters, you cook them fajitas,
      C                 G
They only eat pizza and chips.

I hate stepping outside for a smoke, and some guy coughs,
     C              G
Like your lungs are his.
      Am
And I hate queuing up for festival toilets,
F                          C
Especially when you need a shit.
  Am                     F
I hate the X-factor, for murdering music,
    G                       C
You bunch of money grabbing pricks.

            F    C   G   C
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc.
            F    C   G
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc

C   F   C   G   x2

      C                             F
And I hate them magazines, aimed at insecure teens,
         C                           G
They make ten year olds chase to grow up.
C                                 F        G
"Hey kids, let's be anorexic", or better, eat chocolate 'til you throw up.
          Am                         F
Keep your Hollywood stars, in their stupid cars,
        C                             G
And the botox, that makes them looked fucked.
      C                             F
Just grow old with grace, have you seen Cher's face?
   G                             C
It looks like it's been hit by a truck.

            F    C   G   C
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc
            F    C   G   C
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc
            F    C   G   C
And it goes la, la la la la, la la la la, la la la la etc