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When we turn up in our turn ups |
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Our hearts are heavy |
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Our heads are ready to levy |
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For the yippee-less swing |
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For the tot-less cot |
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For the mock, for the shock |
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For the fun powder plot |
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With courage and conviction |
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In donkey jaw diction |
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We cry for the cause |
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Because the courts have left us lonely |
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Disowned us daddies |
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Like the poopers of the party |
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Gently, gently take them from me |
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Gently, gently take them from me |
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Gently, gently take them from me |
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And I'll be left dumbfound as a donkey |
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This is a booty call, my boot up your arse hole |
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This is a Freudian slip, my slipper in your bits |
