I’m eating a sausage roll
At the buffet
With the people
Yep that lot.
The f ucking people
With the Jesus and the Allah
And no dead animals
And the pensioner denim
So I’m eating a sausage roll
And having a beer
The disco is winding down
Dead Whitney is extending
Flakey pastry dead pig
Kids are traversing the dance floor
On shiny knees
Single malts are available
The older the better
I have flaky pastry on my shirt
I’m a c unt
People are looking
Stilettos slow clapping
I go for a barbecued wing
An old grouse
And some evening air
Chat with some drunken angel
Close one eye
Forget who I came with
Who I’m supposed to be
How great I’m supposed to be
How I should act
But sure I’m the good guy
I finish my sausage roll
In a winning way
Walk to a home
Like I’m the f ucking idiot
All alone.