Abdoujaparov – Baby Food

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