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I'm Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl |
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I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world |
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In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch |
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Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch |
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This is my routine: first I ponder and peck |
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I look in the mirror and I shit on the deck |
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I try to fly, I bang my head |
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I think of something creative instead |
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I ruffle my feathers and have a good scratch |
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Spend at least half an hour trying to undo my catch |
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Not as though I want to be deleted by an owl |
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I've got to fight this awful situation somehow |
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Poor Joey *who's a pretty boy then?* |
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Poor Joey |
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Poor Joe |
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Poor Joey |
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A bundle of joy then |
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Poor Joey *hello!* |
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How the ruddy hell does she expect me to speak |
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With half a ton of cuttlefish stuck in my beak? |
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I go into a moody, disdainfully preen |
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I'm just to upset to mutter something obscene |
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I appreciate the difficulties of owning a pet |
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Speaking as a budgie, it's like Russian Roulette |
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I was bred for the purpose and I shouldn't complain |
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I know you'll forgive me when I sing this refrain |
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Poor Joey *she's a right bastard!* |
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Poor Joey |
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Poor Joe |
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Poor Joey |
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Every Christmas they try to get me plastered |
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Poor Joey *hello!* |
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Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl |
|
I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world |
|
In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch |
|
Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch |
|
Poor Joey *who's a pretty boy then?* |
|
Poor Joey |
|
Poor Joe |
|
Poor Joey |
|
A bundle of joy then |
|
Poor Joey *hello!* |
|
Poor Joey |
|
Poor Joe |
|
Poor Joey |
|
Poor Joe |
|
Poor Joey *who's a pretty boy then?* |
|
Poor Joe *hello!* |
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Poor Joey |
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Poor Joe *cheerio!* |
