Lyrics

When I was young And the blood pulsed swiftly through my veins Before age trampling upon youth Howled at my head with the sinews of 50 winters I never thought about the future or what I would become Didn't care, still don't For as far as I'm aware They don't stitch pockets into shrouds Oh, those Forestry Commission roads What a tale they could tell I am the godfather of nothing whatsoever Our Martin thought he was the town cheese Purpoted to deal in short-term solutions for long-legged men He also liked the sound of his own voice He was at Knowsley Safari Park one day where he saw a monkey with a banana in one hand and a tin opener in the other And he shouted over "Hey, you don't need the tin opener for that" To which the monkey replied "It's for the custard, dickhead" It was loft ladders what killed our Martin Larry on the other hand cleans out the drains at the methodist centre and wears a permanent smile He reckons a contended mind is a continual feast When darkness falls, I am as happy as Larry Sometimes I set out for Ludlow Sometimes I end up in Chepstow I am a happy man I drive the happy van I scaled the Matalan Made it Ma! Top of the world Grafting haddock in the bathroom of the George Grafting haddock in the bathroom of the George Grafting haddock in the bathroom of the George