Oh God,
it's another night and your head is feeling like a lump of lead
You should never have drunk those
party falls You should have been home,
being good instead
Ever been in a deja vu and the end is the same again
You ran out of your silver fins and you're
trying to be so high class that you need a
bath And your hair's looking like string
And though you're nearly broke,
you end up paying for all the drinks
And you tell them, oh, it's nothing
There's a million where those came from And
then you whisper to your longest suffering
friend, please lend me a few quid
Oh God,
it's another day and your stomach's feeling like a blown up balloon
You should never have eaten that greasy food
The doctor told you that chilli was bad for
your blood And you're standing at the chemist at Boots
Coughing up your guts like you're at the
store And all this for a packet of dodo's
And the assistant gives you a wink and you turn bright red
It's at times like this that you wish you were dead
And you take the whole packet and you
feel like you've drunk a bottle of bleach
And you tell yourself,
never,
never again And not until next week anyway
And you were never one for holding
drink And you stagger off to the toilet
And you throw up like it was Christmas And
you miss the bowl and you hit your shoes
And there's no paper towels,
what else can go wrong with you?
It's your choice between a cafe home and a packet of cigarettes
So you choose and the money sticks
in the machine And the manager says,
touch it,
drink up and leave
Oh God,
it's another disease and you just got rid of the last
You were beginning to feel okay And the friends
you gave it to were speaking to you again
And you find yourself having *** in the back of a
car And the girl underneath doesn't care who you are
And you're nearly there and she still doesn't care
And her chewing gum is getting stuck in your hair
And there's something wrong,
something that you forgot Oh *,
you've forgotten the rubber
And you don't want a kid, well, deny it was you
Oh Christ, if your dad finds out,
then he'll make you stay in
And do your homework and cut your hair And
wear your school uniform out in the street
What a fate worse than death
Oh well, he can't hit you, you can hit him back
And play your record so loud,
all the ones that he especially hates
Deep purple in rock,
Led Zeppelin too,
well even you hate those
Well on second thoughts,
I think I'll leave home and go and live in America
Because they earn more money there and you can get away with murder
Oh, this is a mug's game
I can't wait till I'm 21 and then tell the world to sod off