Down in the city,
Grime everywhere,
Newspapers on the floor,
Fog in the air.

Listen,
Noise,
Reminds me,
I'm hungry.

Go to MacDonalds,
Red curly hair,
Painted white faces,
Starting to stare.

Go away,
You are all wrong,
And the man with 5 stars,
Bursts into song.

Down in the toilet,
The sound of brass bands,
Get rid of the burger,
Now wash your hands.

You broke my heart,
You big filthy swine,
And it won't be fixed,
By a song and some wine.

It's raining inside,
All the clocks are bonging,
Pizza and chips,
Can't stop this longing,

Your dirty great spiders,
Stamp on my head,
Close that damn window!
Get out of my bed!

The pigeons are knocking,
It's time to get up,
Drinking alone,
From a broken tea cup.

Now here I am,
Walls newly plastered,
Don't come near me again,
You scummy thick bastard!

"Another year over,
And what have you done?"
Pulled a few moonies,
Stuck figs up my bum.

Now it is Yuletide,
But the fun does not last,
Reminded of horrors,
By him, Christmas Past.

I could not help it,
They were not my choices,
I was only listening,
To those sinister voices.

Please do not blame me,
Don't make me cry,
Those innocent people,
Deserved to die.

I can see Santa,
From here in my cell,
Another year over,
A few more in Hell.

I really do love you,
You really do shine,
But then you go spoil it,
When you start to whine.

Your hair’s nice and silky,
Your heart is a flower,
Then you try and drown me,
With a sponge in the shower.

You play me those love songs,
That we love so much,
Then you go all cold,
And don’t want my touch.

You promise to make me,
Breakfast in bed,
But you get up early,
To potter ‘round in your shed.

I’ll still say I love you,
‘Cause I really do,
Even when you try,
To force-feed me poo.

Dying gerbils,
In a biscuit tin,
The sun's coming out,
But I won't let it in.

Wind the handle,
Crank my shaft,
The Middle Ages,
Is when I last laughed.

Big blue skies,
Hope and glory,
Slap my arse,
And tell me a story.

Rings on my fingers,
And flies up my nose,
A box full of crickets,
And dismembered toes.

Rainbows and harps,
Ribbons and bows,
Tighten your grip,
So that it shows.

That big green tarpaulin,
Is making me itch,
There's glass in my fingers,
Ain't life a bitch.

Looking up at the moon,
From here on the ground,
The bushes around me,
Make a curious sound.

"Listen," they say,
Don't run away,
"I'll give you some sweeties,
If you stay and play."

I wander over,
With shit in my pants,
There's a man with his eye sockets,
All full of ants.

Clutching the branches,
He beckons me,
To look at the dead dog,
Up there in the tree.

"Piss off, you mad bastard,"
And I start to run,
Leaving him there,
Shooting stars with his gun.

I couldn't hear,
The flowers in the garden,
They mumbled something,
And I just said, "Pardon?"

Now they are whispering,
All about me,
The books they have read,
And what is for tea.

I can tell they don't like me,
Very much at all,
My mum told me that,
When I was small.

The whispering spread,
And the trees joined in,
Oh save me Lord,
From this terrible din.

The light is now fading,
Not a single sunbeam,
The flowers are plotting,
And I start to scream,

No-one can hear me,
The door's on the latch,
Here in the garden,
In my own wet patch.

The man was asking,
If I had said,
"Go comb your hair,
And bake me some bread,"

I said, "Not me,
It was not I,
It was those farmers,
With that big giant fly,"

He looked at me closely,
And started to rock,
The look on his face,
Gave me a shock,

I clenched up my fist,
It was all full of spleen,
He was the angriest man,
That I'd ever seen,

I punched his lights out,
And the telly went off,
There in the dark,
He looked like Frank Bough,

It was at that moment,
I started to flee,
He was a fat bastard,
And didn't catch me.

I don't like you, right?
You smell like cheese,
You walk like a buffalo,
And have hairy knees.

Your face it is ugly,
Visage full of spots.
You remind me of something,
Like a dog with the trots.

I don't like you, right?
And I don't like your mum,
She's common and dirty,
Like all council scum.

Your face it is ugly,
You've got lots of disease,
And when asking for something,
You don't even say "please".

I don't like you, right?
So what if I'm gay?
I don't fancy you,
So just keep away.

I don't like you, either,
You bore me to tears,
You remind me of the worst time,
I've had in ten years.

You're dull and unfunny,
You don't interest me,
Stick your life story,
I'd rather drink pee.

I really can't stand you,
And your lifeless talk,
You've depressed people,
Since you learned to walk.

You sit next to me,
Like I am your friend,
You are boring me rigid,
Will this pain never end?

You really are tiresome,
Your tales are no thrill,
Please go away,
'Cause you're making me ill.

Knock Knock, at the door,
“Who is it?” I say,
“’Tis me the God Botherer,
Can I come in and stay?”

“I have some fine books,
You might want to read,
And if you don’t read them,
I’ll make your eyes bleed.”

“Please no, not again!”
I nervously cried,
“I’ve read them already!”
I nervously lied.

“Oh no you haven’t!”
The Botherer said,
“I know you’ve been hiding,
Under your bed.”

Now I was frightened,
I really must say,
I got on my knees,
And started to pray.

“That’s good,” said the Botherer,
“That’s just the right way,”
And I felt my brain was,
Just washing away.

And now two days later,
I get funny looks,
Now that he’s got me,
Selling those books.

As I got off the bus,
I got one big surprise,
A man staring at me,
With big hairy eyes.

I could see him quite clearly,
And I crossed the road,
He was following me,
Squeezing a toad.

I'd gone out to go shopping,
Like I did on Tuesdays,
I turned 'round again,
And he caught my gaze.

He beckoned me over,
With a gnarled yellow finger,
He was wearing a t-shirt,
That said, “I’m a swinger!”

I’m not exaggerating,
It’s just how it is,
He chased me around,
The tills in Sainsbury’s

I got a bit pissed off,
Went in one of my moods,
‘Cause the swine then followed me,
Into FarmFoods.

I went to confront him,
‘Cause I didn’t like this,
His face was dead ugly,
And his hair smelt of piss.

“Stop following me!
Just go away!”
I thought of some stronger things,
I had to say.

“Oh, sorry my friend,"
Said the weird looking fella,
"You left this on the bus,”
And held out my umbrella.

I can see sunshine,
Though my windows are dirty,
I'm eating my tea,
Though it's only 3:30.

I was late for work,
But I got up early,
My Dad is real butch,
But his name is Shirley.

My hands are all clean,
But my mind is mucky,
My dog was beheaded,
His name was Lucky.

Sometimes I'm nice,
Sometimes I'm mean,
I hate the royals,
But my fave band is Queen.

I bought a hot chocolate,
And it went stone cold,
I answered an advert,
But the item was sold.

I don't watch the news,
Though I do like the arts,
I took some Rennies,
But still had the farts.

Old ladies hate punk hairstyles,
But they have purple perms,
It's just yet another,
Contradiction in terms.

Come over here,
And lay next to me,
No-one will hear us,
No-one will see.

I won't make a sound,
As I undo your zips,
Squeeze on your elbows,
And gyrate on your hips.

I'll roll you around,
And smear you with jam,
Then tickle your legs,
With wafer thin ham.

I'll blow up your nose,
And lick your eyes,
And tell you how much,
I love your mince pies.

I'll work on your buttons,
Remove your pullover,
On waves of passion,
Like a ferry from Dover.

Then afterwards,
When we have calmed down,
I'll give you your bus fare,
To get you into town.

My name is Finlay,
My mum's name is Esther,
She gave birth to me,
At the zoo in Chester.

My name is Finlay,
I like Mars Bars and Snickers,
I once went to Tesco,
Wearing hospital knickers.

My name is Finlay,
And I like to play,
I once glued my ears back,
'Cause I liked them that way.

My name is Finlay,
And I like to dance,
I like to watch Countdown,
With my hands down my pants.

My name is Finlay,
I like going to the shops,
I think people like me,
I'm friendly at bus stops.

My name is Finlay,
And I'm frightened of things,
Like spiders and snowmen,
And moths with big wings.

My name is Finlay,
I once bought a cow,
I took ill for a while,
But I'm quite alright now.