| Nobody sends me birthday cards
|
| Nobody brings me flowers
|
| I’m just here for operations
|
| I’ve been out for hours
|
| When I come to I’ll wet my bed
|
| 'Cos when I get mad I sink so low
|
| As matron knows
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| I get off on what you give me, darling
|
| I get off on what you give to me
|
| Yeh, I get off on what you give me, darling
|
| I get off on what you give to me
|
| And when I go to that seedy ward
|
| Up in the sky
|
| You’ll be waiting
|
| With a hypodermic needle
|
| And a graph
|
| Here comes the dark
|
| (I'm grateful for my anaesthetic)
|
| Out goes the spark
|
| (Delirious and apathetic)
|
| When I come to
|
| I’ll wet my bed
|
| And when I get well
|
| I’ll take revenge
|
| I’ll wreak my wrath
|
| On all blood donors
|
| And their sisters
|
| Visiting time and flowers
|
| When sister brings that bedpan round
|
| I’ll piss like April showers
|
| I get off on what you give me, darling
|
| I get off on what you give to me
|
| Yeh, I get off on what you give me, darling
|
| I get off on what you give to me
|
| And when I go
|
| I’ll die of plaster casting love |