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