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We were living down the tip, you were working for the gas 
I was working for the M.O.D. 
Bargain buckets for our breakfast 
Pretty preachers for our lunch 
And Jason Donovan for our tea 


You had a biker chick, I had a lunatic 
When  the ceiling tumbled down on our beds 
And we told it down the Schooner 
Where the punk rockers lived 
Amongst the blue rinse tory heads 

La-La-La-La-La 
La-La-La-La-La 

There was a bad mod rocker, in skinhead mocassins 
Ready for a killing spree 
With his four sad mates selling racial hate 
And he wants to beat the crap out of me 


You were out of the door when the bottle hit my jaw 
And the losers set about on me 
When I caught you up there was no sign of blood 
Was I bleeding internally? 


La-La-La-La-La 
La-La-La-La-La 


There was a thin black nurse with a king size needle 
And she wants to take the piss out of me 
With another standing by her with a shiny pair of plyers 
In case of an emergency 


I was wired up you see 
No Bargain Buckets for my tea 
And when my jaw bone healed 
It was baby food for me

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