f___in' Right!

Bank Holiday Monday, Sunday hours,
So let's f___ off to Alton Towers,
Ten to two, quite a few in the queue for the b__per cars,
Fit crack on the lake, but her mate's got a flabby a___,
So let's____ the bar!

But! Where's the f___ing pub? Where's the f___ing ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-f___ing-rail,
Where's the f___ing crack? They're middle-aged mums,
With big flabby b__s.

The black hole queue's past the entrance gate,
I've been with Sweaty Betty, and its not worth the wait.
Wouldn't stand in a queue for all the tea in China,
I'd rather lick the hairs on a dead dog's v_____,
Hair of the dog!

But! Where's the f___ing pub? Where's the f___ing ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-f___ing-rail,
Where's the f___ing crack? They're middle-aged mums,
With big flabby b__s.

f___, c___, w___, s___!,
Where's the f___ing pub? Where's the f___ing ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-f___ing-rail,
Where's the f___ing pub? Where's the f___ing ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-f___ing-rail,
Where's the f___ing pub? Where's the f___ing ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-f___ing-rail.

©1988 The Macc Lads

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