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Abdoujaparov
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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
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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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