Black Sabbath thunders down on us, boots of faeries plod along

They tread on flies, as the chess board cries

No more rubbish players, aaagghh, go back to pool

You are too dull, the mug is half full

Of tea with milk and sugar, urggghhh

Emlyn plays with keys and the cat eats his fleas

Jasper Carrott finds his golden balls quite tasty

And I do fancy curry lately

Elastic plastic is in my brain, too much talking drives me insane

But don’t sing, I hate musicals, tormented by West Side Story in school

But frogs made out of acid rule and Ken Kercey was no fool