Upsetting squares and making ladies moist 2003 - 2016
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You horrible man (you killed a kid at Christmas)

My manager Gibbons has often been given
To taking a drink before noon
So by 4 o clock he’s exposing his cock
And gibbering like a buffoon
Come half past eight he’s in quite a state
And really not making much sense
By chucking out he’s mucking about
And breakdancing for 50 pence

As I remember one day last December
He’d downed around a dozen jars
And despite my pleas wouldn’t hand me his keys
And insisted on driving his car
Because he was plastered the dozy old bastard
Ignored the onlookers squeals
Outside it had snowed as he shot up the road
He dragged a child under his wheels

Mike Mike Mike
He knocked a kiddie off his bike
He split his head
My god it bled
The snow was white
And it went red
And Mike was drunk
And off he sped
The doctor said, “this kid is dead”
You horrible man, you killed a kid at Christmas


His drinks he’d been mixing, his car needed fixing
And so he went to the garage
While itching his wang his solicitor rang
And said the old bill dropped the charge
He drew out some cash and went on the lash
To a pub for a beer and a steak
The service was slack, loads of people in black
It was the same pub as the kiddy’s wake

Mike Mike Mike
He knocked a kiddie off his bike
He split his head
My god it bled
The snow was white
And it went red
And Mike was drunk
And off he sped
The doctor said, “this kid is dead”
You horrible man, you killed a kid at Christmas
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