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Well it cost me thirty bucks to fix my budgie, |
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When the little blighter only cost me five. |
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The veterinary surgeon saw me coming, |
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But I had to keep my feathered friend alive; |
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He was shaking on his perch, the kids were crying, |
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The family gathered round his little cage. |
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I said I think it's time we got a new one, |
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That's when the family went into a rage. |
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Oh, the waiting room ponged like a rat house, |
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With heartworms and lungworms and lice. |
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And a Persian had her eye on the shoebox, |
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I suppose she thought our budgie might be nice. |
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Well the bird shit on the veterinary surgeon, |
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I heard him say the dirty little chick. |
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Guess he wondered why I didn't use my brains |
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And hit him over the head with a brick. |
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CHORUS: |
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Oh antibiotics for his colour, |
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Two drops a day on his beak. |
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Some powder on the nose for his feathers |
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And clean out his cage twice a week. |
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Well it cost me thirty bucks to fix my budgie |
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When the little blighter only cost me five |
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And the bludger wakes me early in the morning, |
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It's got me puzzled how he survives. |
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One night I'll feed him to the tom cat. |
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Instead of worrying about him when we go away. |
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No-one wants to feed a shitty budgie, |
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When everyone's on holiday. |
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REPEAT CHORUS |
