| Download Secret Song MIDI |
Murray/Watt |
So the story begins...
City dweller, ain't got no cellar,
Thought to himself, 'My wife has got all my money,'
Living in a penthouse,
In Netherlee.
I'm a professional brickie,
Between jobs at the minute:
Not paying the price,
'Cause I get state benefit.
Living off the back of
Society.
He's got leopard skin,
And a wheelie bin.
He lives in a house,
A very cramped house,
With low ceilings.
Watching Springer repeats,
And Coronation Street,
In the evening.
He piles up credit card bills,
He wipes inexplicable spills,
Off the bedsheets.
It's like a battery farm,
With minimal charm,
In Drumchapel.
He's a closet Tory,
But that's another story.
Ev'rything's going Jackanory.
Touched by his low-life
Expectancy.
He's watching Kojak,
Knocking back Prozac.
He needs a helping hand,
To satisfy his needs as a man.
Oh, it's a simpler remedy.
If you're strapped for cash,
Deal in hash.
He lives in a house,
A very cramped house,
With low ceilings.
He's got manly breasts,
Hanging over his chest,
From on high.
He drinks, smokes, laughs,
Has a cousin in Bath,
Who disowned him.
It's like a battery farm,
With minimal charm,
In Drumchapel.
In Drumchapel (ooh, ooh, ooh),
In Drumchapel (ooh, ooh, ooh),
In Drumchapel (ooh, ooh, ooh).
Blow, blow me off.
I am so sad.
I had ribs removed.
Blow, blow me off.
I am so sad.
I had ribs removed.
He lives in a house,
A very cramped house,
With low ceilings.
Watching Springer repeats,
And Coronation Street,
In the evening.
He piles up credit card bills,
He wipes inexplicable spills,
Off the bedsheets.
It's like a battery farm,
With minimal charm,
In Drumchapel.
He lives in a house,
A very cramped house,
With low ceilings.
He's got manly breasts,
Hanging over his chest,
From on high.
He drinks, smokes, laughs,
Has a cousin in Bath,
Who disowned him.
Oh you'll point and laugh,
On that battery farm,
In Drumchapel.
Ooh, la, la, la.
I wanna leave.
I wanna leave. |
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