[Verse 1]
(Ah-roo!) Juveniles, hide your porno mags
The girl's got problems at her yard
So she's packing up her bags full of rags
Her man got done from Po Na Na
While the Madras still in the kitchen
Smokes a twenty deck of fags

Body bags come back on planes from war-torn Iraq
It's the stark naked truth, a dark aftermath
Baby T, the juice, and the dog just barks
Remember, man, the bully always had the last laugh (Ah-roo!)
Haha, haha, haha

[Verse 2]
It was a blast last night down the old 12 Bar
White socks, black shoes with the ballads in the car
With a lump in your throat, she won't understand
Twos on a cigarette and talk blah-blah

Bloody hell, di-ob-la-da, glug down liquor
Life goes on for all the day trippers
Starts off small but it's gonna get bigger
By the end of this letter, it may all be better

[Verse 3]
Well, she's always asking with the who, where and how
The girls say, "Ooh, la la"
Well, if I had another chance, I'd do it differently now
And the girls say, "Ooh, la-la-la-la-la-la-la"
From Trafalgar Square, where the crack pipe reeking
To in your dark damp flat, the ceiling's leaking
You fell in love when you first started chatting
But got so bored 'cause she never stopped speaking

Consider this son one of bad behaviour
Keeping all the freebies, delivering the papers
You haters shake down fakers
Ah, you'll never get nowhere, 'cause I'm the pacemaker

(Keep up
Runny, runny
Run, keep up)

[Verse 4]
Pretty please me, ah, she's easy on the eye
Some say that today only the good young die
Yippee-oh ki-yay, it's been a right good day
I wanna ask questions but I don't mean pry

How did you get to where you're going to
Before you came slowly moseying through this bar?
You started your race, Johnny Cock-a-Roo wants his money
Better give up the man, he's a fruit and nut bar
(I'm serious, he's a real nutter)
[Verse 5]
Gotta see the GP, coughing up lungs
And the doc said, "Stop, or you're gonna die young"
Well, I haven't even started to do what I done
"You young don't listen, you just carry on"

Well, we heard it all before when your song got sung
"Get a grip, son" "Why?" "'Cause you're always drunken"
We're not captains, just skivvy sunken
Hum drum drum drum, live fast, die young

[Verse 6]
Blister skin stumbling, road rocky
And trespassers on the private property
Remember back then it was the rant, the banter
Young songs watch their young pas get cancer

While vagabond Sandy crying out for a mister
Missed her so much that he went drank the brewery
Sing-a-long Sam, this a song about you
And we all went out and we got pistola

[Verse 7]
I don't wanna fight, he's a right big cunt
But the fellas say, "Go on, my son, my son!"
Well, it's all a bit of fun till someone gets done
But the fellas say, "Go on, my son, my son!"
Well, I'm more likely to pick up and run
But fellas say, "Go on, my son, my son!"
Ah, fuck it, well, he's a right big cunt, but I'll knock him one
Fuck that, run, run!