| <> page <The Bus Driver's Prayer And Other Stories - Deluxe Edition (CD 1)> album page |
Poor JoeyI'm Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girlI'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch This is my routine: first I ponder and peck I look in the mirror and I shit on the deck I try to fly, I bang my head I think of something creative instead I ruffle my feathers and have a good scratch Spend at least half an hour trying to undo my catch Not as though I want to be deleted by an owl I've got to fight this awful situation somehow Poor Joey (who's a pretty boy then?) Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey A bundle of joy then Poor Joey (hello) How the ruddy hell does she expect me to speak With half a ton of cuttlefish stuck in my beak? I go into a moody, disdainfully preen And just to upset her, mutter something obscene I appreciate the difficulties of owning a pet Speaking as a budgie, it's like Russian Roulette I was bred for the purpose and I shouldn't complain I know you'll forgive me when I sing this refrain Poor Joey (everyone's a bastard) Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey Every Christmas they try and get me plastered Poor Joey (hello) Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch Poor Joey (who's a pretty boy then?) Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey A bundle of joy then Poor Joey (hello) Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey (who's a pretty boy then?) Poor Joe (hello) Poor Joey Poor Joe (cheerio) |