Macc Lads Rockweilers
Stuck our faces out the windows on the way to Leeds
Wagged our stumps together, we're not like the other
breeds
We'd lie in wait for postmen, I showed you how to spot
them
But I can't tell you that I love you when your nose is up
my bottom
We hung around the butcher's and grummidged in his ship
I ate too many fish heads and let you eat my sick
The tripe was ripe and mouldy, the sausages were rotten
But I can't tell you that I love you when my nose is up
your bottom
We ate country pancakes, chased rabbits in the fields
Barbara Woodhouse, Ronnie Barker, and Lassie on TV
I even let you lick my piss, or have you just forgotten?
But I can't tell you that I love you when your nose is up
my bottom.
