Bad Boy Ethan

Songtext

[Intro] Ethan says, “I’m trouble,” then he checks the bus timetable Big talk in the group chat, tiny threat when standing stable [Verse 1] Ethan wears the tough face, chin up, shoulders wide Only picks a fight with pensioners, with a walking frame beside Says he’s built for battle, says he’s feared across the town But the strongest thing he’s lifted is a meal deal off the ground He talks like a warlord, voice gravel in the pub Then an old man clears his throat and Ethan suddenly needs a hug No gym card, no motor, just a travel pass and pride He rolls up to the showdown on the number twenty-nine ride [Chorus] Bad boy Ethan, all bark, no bite Big man speeches, disappears by night Bad boy Ethan, king of the bus Betting women’s football wages, praying for a plus Bad boy Ethan, claiming he’s elite But his fiercest opponent has a pensioner’s receipt [Verse 2] Friday gets his wages, Saturday they’re gone He’s got sixfold women’s football coupons carrying him on “Easy money,” Ethan says, eyes fixed on the screen Then a club from nowhere ruins everything at seventeen He can’t name a player, can’t explain the league But he’s staking half his paycheck on a match he’ll never see Now he’s counting copper coins, blaming rain and referees While the bus driver knows his betting slip by memory He says, “I’m on a comeback,” with a sandwich for his tea The only thing he’s chasing is a refund from the app’s VIP He wants a life of danger, wants respect and blacked-out nights But he’s scared to cross the road unless the crossing signal’s right [Chorus] Bad boy Ethan, all bark, no bite Big man speeches, disappears by night Bad boy Ethan, king of the bus Betting women’s football wages, praying for a plus Bad boy Ethan, claiming he’s elite But his fiercest opponent has a pensioner’s receipt [Bridge] One old lady with a handbag, Ethan changed his route Saw a walking stick approaching, took the emergency exit out He calls it tactical movement, says retreat is how kings win But the bus pulled off without him—he was too scared to get in [Verse 3] Now he’s posting tough captions, black-and-white profile pic Borrowed someone’s leather jacket, says the energy is sick But the pockets hold a bus pass and a betting ticket stub That’s the whole criminal empire—public transport and self-love He says he’s “built different,” yeah, assembled wrong perhaps Every threat comes with a question: “Can you lend me for the snacks?” Ethan, mate, your legend is a rumour with a fee You’re not a bad boy, you’re a bus-stop personality [Final Chorus] Bad boy Ethan, all bark, no bite Big man speeches, disappears by night Bad boy Ethan, king of the bus Betting women’s football wages, praying for a plus Bad boy Ethan, take a bow The pensioners are safe, and the bookmakers own you now [Outro] Next stop: reality Please hold the rail