I met this bloke who looked like a ghost I’ve soon find out that he was not He was a genuine count from Transylvania He said: “Marry me. That’s where I’ll take you To a ruined castle on the top of a cliff Where the air’s so cold it will freeze your tits” And there he taught me how to fly Two lovers together in the purple sky
And we had bats for dinner and bats for tea Bats for him and bats for me A big fat rat for Sunday roast For breakfast we had bats on toast And when the cooking became a chaw We just chopped them up and eat them raw Or opened the window facing south And let them fly straight in our mouths
Bats for dinner, bats for tea Bats for dinner, bats for tea Bats for dinner, bats for tea Bats for tea
Neighbours didn’t like us much They seemed to bear some sort of a grudge Attacked the castle with flaming torches, Burned the stables and stole the Porshes Then our local vicar, a miserable tart, Stabbed a wooden stake through my boyfriend’s heart I escaped, but I’m alone again In a one-room flat in Sydenham
And there’s no bats for dinner, no bats for tea, No bats from the graves or the belfry It’s peas and cabbage or Sunday roast And if I’m lucky – beans on toast And when the cooking becomes a chaw I’ll just chop them up and eat them raw And think of how things used to be When there was just my count and me
There’s no fairy-tale castles in the sky, But the room’s so cold it would make you cry And still sometimes at night I fly Over London’s dark grey sky And think of him in another world And hope he’s waiting for his girl And there united we will be Together forever for eternity
And there’ll be bats for dinner and bats for tea Bats for him and bats for me A big fat rat for Sunday roast For breakfast we’ll have bats on toast And when the cooking becomes a chaw We’ll just chop them up and eat them raw Or open the window facing south And let them fly straight in our mouths
Bats for dinner, bats for tea Bats for dinner, bats for tea Bats for dinner, bats for tea Bats for tea