| We sit |
| We think |
| We drink |
| We fall upstairs and dress |
| Confess the mess our lives are in |
| Depressed |
| We rest |
| We jest |
| We love ourselves to death |
| But we reek of garlic breath |
| And to the bathroom next we rush |
| We flush |
| We brush |
| We splash on smells |
| We squeeze |
| We tease |
| Oh please let me take you now but no |
| Suppose she knows |
| We really ought to go |
| She’s picking up the phone |
| Just you wait til we get home |
| See we’re sneaking home |
| You’ve got your ripped jeans on |
| You leave doc bootprints on the lawn |
| Swearing hard is this girl i used to know |
| Uncouth words |
| I miss the girl that i fell for |
| We arrive |
| The wives |
| Want clive |
| To show us to our seats |
| He bleats |
| We speak |
| Of things we’d like to eat |
| We cheat |
| Repeat the order of last week |
| He shrugs in mock defeat |
| And ponces off to fetch the wine |
| We dine |
| Goes fine |
| The girls are plied drink |
| They chink |
| We wink |
| And true to form they start to flirt |
| Their skirts |
| Are hitched way beyond the decent height |
| Clive he smiles with sheer delight |
| How he’d love to take you home |
| See we’re sneaking home |
| You’ve got your ripped jeans on |
| You leave doc bootprints on the lawn |
| Swearing hard is this girl i used to know |
| Uncouth words |
| I miss the girl that i fell for |
| I hope i’m wrong |
| It may be drink that woke this hoor inside |
| Alone she has a rattling in store |