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dead cat

No petrol in the van, knee-deep in empty cans,
We lost the map, the tyre's flat, the bloody gig's been banned.
We stopped off for some grease, Ben Nevis is obese,
We left him stranded, empty handed, ten miles outside Leeds.

Find us a pub where the ale and tarts are free,
Lock that fucking door, we'll drink beer 'til eternity.

Someone farted in the back, Fast Fret found a cat,
It was in the road, all stiff and cold, and squashed and thin and flat.
He wants to take it back, in a Tesco bag,
Its got one eye, its full of flies, he needs something to shag.

Find us a pub where the ale and tarts are free,
Lock that fucking door, we'll drink beer 'til eternity.

A contest entry

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Comments


  • psychiatrists dream
    December 7, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    that was different, I like different well written and amusing thanks for entering and good luck

    • maccladd
      December 7, 2007
      Edit | Reply
      ta. it is actually lyrics to one of our songs. condensed