The big fat chud wobbled home one night,
Singing: 'Woah, Maccy Maccy' After twenty eight pints.
Has a bit of trouble getting the key in the door,
His belly dragged him downwards and his face hit the floor.
Spilt curry down his shirt,
Soaked through to the vest,
p***** in his jeans as he tries to undress,
Trousers round his ankles, he bangs into the wall,
Decides to have a p*** in the cutlery drawer.
Then he starts to vomit,
On the telly by the door,
She must have been to Comet,
Coz that c*** wasn't there before.
He pukes and he pukes,
But there's no stopping,
New picture on the stairs,
The old bag's been shopping.
He spews and he spews then its time to relax,
He props himself up on the edge of the bath,
One last puke strains his whole body,
Out of his a*** plops a vindaloo jobby.
Bile out the front end,
b**-sick out the back,
Vomit in the toilet,
Diarrhoea all over the bath.
Then his b***ock hits the hot tap,
And his chubby legs collapse,
His jeans are round his ankles,
The big fat b****** falls backwards into the bath.
His arms and legs are waving,
They're flapping like f***,
But the s***'s sealed him in,
And the fat c***'s stuck.
He flounders in the tub,
But he's a perfect fit,
t***s down his back,
His front's borted in sick.
He grabs at the taps to pull himself clear,
But he hasn't got a clue about the trouble at the rear,
He crawls into bed, covered in s****,
And tries to cuddle up to his extremely fat and ugly wife.
She hits him with a small brush,
He's landed on the floor,
She says: 'You smelly fat walrus,
You live at number 24.'
Desperate Dan,
Desperate Dan.
©1990 The Macc Lads
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Singing: 'Woah, Maccy Maccy' After twenty eight pints.
Has a bit of trouble getting the key in the door,
His belly dragged him downwards and his face hit the floor.
Spilt curry down his shirt,
Soaked through to the vest,
p***** in his jeans as he tries to undress,
Trousers round his ankles, he bangs into the wall,
Decides to have a p*** in the cutlery drawer.
Then he starts to vomit,
On the telly by the door,
She must have been to Comet,
Coz that c*** wasn't there before.
He pukes and he pukes,
But there's no stopping,
New picture on the stairs,
The old bag's been shopping.
He spews and he spews then its time to relax,
He props himself up on the edge of the bath,
One last puke strains his whole body,
Out of his a*** plops a vindaloo jobby.
Bile out the front end,
b**-sick out the back,
Vomit in the toilet,
Diarrhoea all over the bath.
Then his b***ock hits the hot tap,
And his chubby legs collapse,
His jeans are round his ankles,
The big fat b****** falls backwards into the bath.
His arms and legs are waving,
They're flapping like f***,
But the s***'s sealed him in,
And the fat c***'s stuck.
He flounders in the tub,
But he's a perfect fit,
t***s down his back,
His front's borted in sick.
He grabs at the taps to pull himself clear,
But he hasn't got a clue about the trouble at the rear,
He crawls into bed, covered in s****,
And tries to cuddle up to his extremely fat and ugly wife.
She hits him with a small brush,
He's landed on the floor,
She says: 'You smelly fat walrus,
You live at number 24.'
Desperate Dan,
Desperate Dan.
©1990 The Macc Lads
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------