We were living down the tip, you were working for the gas I was working for the M.O.D. Bargain buckets for our breakfast Pretty preachers for our lunch And Jason Donovan for our tea You had a biker chick, I had a lunatic When the ceiling tumbled down on our beds And we told it down the Schooner Where the punk rockers lived Amongst the blue rinse tory heads La-La-La-La-La La-La-La-La-La There was a bad mod rocker, in skinhead mocassins Ready for a killing spree With his four sad mates selling racial hate And he wants to beat the crap out of me You were out of the door when the bottle hit my jaw And the losers set about on me When I caught you up there was no sign of blood Was I bleeding internally? La-La-La-La-La La-La-La-La-La There was a thin black nurse with a king size needle And she wants to take the piss out of me With another standing by her with a shiny pair of plyers In case of an emergency I was wired up you see No Bargain Buckets for my tea And when my jaw bone healed It was baby food for me