f**ing right.
Bank holiday Monday,
By Sunday I was....
So let's f** off to Alton Towers.
One or two, quite a few in the queue for the bumper cars.
Fit crack on the lake but her mate's got a flabby arse.
So let's hit the bars....
Where's the f**ing pub?
Where's the f**ing ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-f**ing rail.
Where's the f**ing crack?
There's middle aged mums with big fabby bums.
Black hole queue's past the entrance gate now,
Well, I've been with Sweatty Betty and it's not worth the wait.
No!
I wouldn't stand in a queue for all the tea in China,
I'd rather pump the S up me deck top's vagina,
Sarah the dog.
Where's the f**ing pub?
Where's the f**ing ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-f**ing rail.
Where's the f**ing crack?
There's middle aged mums with big fabby bums.
f** c*nt wa*k sh**.
Where's the f**ing pub?
Where's the f**ing ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-f**ing rail.
(Repeat to end)