well smack me arse n’call me Raymond
if this ain’t the way to fame and
belch whatever
mate, yeah
sorry – didn’t see you standin’ there
anyway who needs a sense of self proportion
wot an abortion
mate
you’re too ugly n’ too late
you oughta’r ‘ve
thought’ve
that
right off the bat
you miserable twat
you’re basically lazy
paddlin’ in shit while we’re swimming in gravy
n’ listen mate – maybe
if you said the odd nice thing for the Daily Mail
you wouldn’t be a sprat but a baby whale
nice n’blubbery, morally free
top o’the tree, mate – top o’the tree
King Kong ain’t got nuffin’ on me
you jes’ gotta learn to act n’speak right
when to fix fings, when to fight
maybe then you’d be alright
son
yeah
mark my words
do yer time, do yer bird
grease a few palms, kiss a few swords
n’you could be shittin’ in the house o’lords