When we turn up in our turn up s, our hearts are heavy, our heads are ready to levy.
For the yippee-less swing, for the tot-less cot, for the mock, for the shock, for the fun powder plot.
With courage and conviction, in donkey-jaw diction, we cry for the cause because the courts have left us lonely; disowned us daddies like the poopers of the party.
Gently, gently take them from me gently, gently take them from me gently, gently take them from me, and I ll be left dumfound as a donkey.
This is a booty call; my boot up your arse hole. This is a Freudian slip; my slipper in your bits.