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letra de surging out of convalescence - half man half biscuit

darts in soap operas, oh, so wrong, oh so wrong
no-one’s scoring and there’s too much chat between each 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, therefore
i propose
no soap darts

is your child hyperactive, or is he perhaps a tw-t?
sometimes i like to watch wave rage down on fistral beach
last ash wednesday i had tantric s-x and it was sh-t
next ash wednesday i might strive to lick my elbow
strive in vain
for they say
few succeed

i wrote to the horse & hounds
to gloat over what i’d done
i stored their magazine in a data retrieval system
let’s face it, what’re they going to do?
it’s not as if they know where i live
and anyway i cut that 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

- half man half biscuit

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