Letra
Ver letra con acordes
Darts in soap operas, oh so wrong, oh so wrong
No one s scoring and there s too much chat between easch throw
Worse than this though is when cheers are raised for the bull
Granted, bull s a double and an out but I know that they don t
Know their boards; I propose no soap darts.
Is your child hyperactive or is he perhaps a twat?
Sometimes I like to watch wave rage down on Fistral Beach
Last Ash Wednesday I had tantric sex and it was shit
Next Ash Wednesday I might strive to lick my elbow;
Strive in vain, for they say few succeed.
I wrote to the Horse and Hounds to gloat over whay I d done
I stored their magazine in a data retrieval system
Well let s face it what re they going to do?
It s not as if they know where I live
And anyway I cut the caper back in 1984
Heartbroken Matrons on joyless beds
For those whose souls the iron has entered
And if I get to Heaven s gate I ll doubtless have to wait
While St. Peter investigates the inevitable asterisk
The inside of a Halex Three Star table-tennis ball
Smells much like you d expect it to.