| Nobody sends me birthday cards | |
| Nobody brings me flowers | |
| I'm just here for operations | |
| I've been out for hours | |
| When I come to I'll wet my bed | |
| `Cos when I get mad I sink so low | |
| As matron knows | |
| I get off on what you give me, darling | |
| I get off on what you give to me | |
| Yeh, I get off on what you give me, darling | |
| I get off on what you give to me | |
| And when I go to that seedy ward | |
| Up in the sky | |
| You'll be waiting | |
| With a hypodermic needle | |
| And a graph | |
| Here comes the dark | |
| (I'm grateful for my anaesthetic) | |
| Out goes the spark | |
| (Delirious and apathetic) | |
| When I come to | |
| I'll wet my bed | |
| And when I get well | |
| I'll take revenge | |
| I'll wreak my wrath | |
| On all blood donors | |
| And their sisters | |
| Visiting time and flowers | |
| When sister brings that bedpan round | |
| I'll piss like April showers | |
| I get off on what you give me, darling | |
| I get off on what you give to me | |
| Yeh, I get off on what you give me, darling | |
| I get off on what you give to me | |
| And when I go | |
| I'll die of plaster casting love |
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