作词 : Richard Dawson
作曲 : Richard Dawson
Year 7's on a school trip to Featherstone Castle and some wee scallywag's brung

a Coca-Cola bottle containing a spirit.

Poor Peter Hepplethwaite cracks open his head on a shiny brass bedknob

and has to be rushed by helicopter ambulance to Haltwhistle Hospital.

Si Shovell fills a Reebok Pump with the pulp from his belly

then sets off a fire-extinguisher in the girl's dormitory

and finally clambers into bed with Miss Batholomew

much to the chagrin of the deputy headmaster

whose scarlet skull is firmly wedged between her thighs


I only drank a few little droplets

I only took a tiny draught of the vile stuff


Downing Asda's own-brand stubbies in the lad's bogs

I listen to the dull reflection of a carillon in the toilet-bowl

My A-levels drifitng away from me

Matthew Mooney's hockle in my hair smells like menthol tabs

Outside the chip-shop Thaddeus Wagstaff fractures my cheekbone

3 empty cans of Castlemaine XXXX go rolling down my trouser leg

Blood, snot and curry coalesce in the corners of my nails

My friends drifting away from me


Attempting to penetrate a coconut husk with a Philips-head screwdriver

I pierce a hole straight through my hand into the laminate worktop

It's a major operation to repair a damaged tendon

I come around with the tube still down my throat

The milk of amnesia fills my cup and back into the hole i go

Snoring like a pan of broth I arouse the ire

of my fellow patients... wagging their ladles in the dark


My neighbour Andrew lost two fingers to a Staffie-cross

whilst jogging over Cow Hill with a Pepperami in his bum-bag

He's a junior partner at James & James no-win-no-fee solicitor

thinking of relocating to a Buddhist monastery in Halifax

he reckons I should try meditation...

he reckons it could benefit my peace of mind


My bedroom walls are papered with the stripes of Newcastle United

between which I percieve the presence of a horse-headed figure

holding aloft a flaming quiver of bramble silhouettes

He is the King of Children

singing like a boiler - 'tomorrow is on its way'.

I've haven't had a wink of sleep and now the sun is in my porridge

I'm starting a BTEC in engineering at Tynemouth college.

My thermos flask leaks parsnip soup on the metro

clogging up the keys of my MacBook.

Carrot pennies steam amidst a pyre of pencils

Ruck-sack dripping up the steps of WH Smith

to buy a fresh pad of paper