I DON'T WANT TO.
I don't want to join the army
I don't want to go to war,
I'd rather hang a round Piccadilly underground,
Living of the earning of a high class lady,
I don't want a bayonet up my arsehole,
I don't want my bollocks shot away,
I'd rather stay in England,
In very merry England,
And fornicate my f***ing life away,
Gawd blimey.
Monday I touched her on the ankle,
Tuesday I touched her on the knee,
On Wednesday I confess,
I lifted up her dress,
On Thursday I saw it, gawd blimey,
Friday I put my hand upon it,
On Saturday she gave my balls a tweak,
On Sunday after supper,
I rammed the f***er up her,
And now I'm paying seven and six a week
Gawd blimey.