When I was a young chap, just a little bouncing boy, My family was not wealthy, so I had to make do With second-hand pyjamas, and a single wooden toy. A dinosaur my daddy made with balsa wood and glue.
But when I turned thirteen and to high school off I trotted, I knew immidiately that my dino wouldn’t do. ’Cause I had noticed all the toys the other boys had gotted, And I couldn’t help myself I wished that I had got them too.
My daddy made a dinosaur with balsa wood and glue, But before too long I knew that my dino wouldn’t do.
When I was fifteen years old I first turned to thievin’ To satiate my cravin’ to have things the other kids had. I stole a gnarly skateboard from a skateboard shop one evening; It had bodacious fluoro railing and a wicked fluoro skidpad.
By the following Monday morning the skateboarding turned to boredom; My appetite for skating was abated in a flash. So I sold my board and bought a pair of flippers and a snorkel, But soon I borked at snorkeling, forked my snorkel in the trash.
My daddy made a dinosaur with balsa wood and glue, But before too long I knew that my dino wouldn’t do.
At eighteen I managed hedge funds and got fat by drinking beer. At twenty I owned seven cars and houses on the coast. I fell in love at twenty-three with a Swedish girl called Mia; I bought a 200 quid toaster with which Mia made me toast.
At twenty-eight I went through like a Buddhist kind of thing, And decided that the material world and I were through. I hooked up with some Buddhist chicks who said that they were twins, But they didn’t look that similiar and they did stuff twins don’t do.
My daddy made a dinosaur with balsa wood and glue, But before too long I knew that my dino wouldn’t do.
But now I’m forty-seven stone and thirty-one years old. I have a kitchen staff of twelve on call twenty-four hours a day, And a Page Three girl I payed to lick chocolate from my folds, And a rent boy called Llywelyn, though I’m neither Welsh nor gay.
Now to those who judge my lifestyle to be gluttonous and brash, And criticise my access acquisition and consumption. I say that critics of the wealthy are just those who don’t have cash, And who have never had a prostitute spread marmite on their scrotum
My daddy made a dinosaur with balsa wood and glue, But before too long I knew that my dino wouldn’t do.
My father died a year ago; to dust he’s now returned, And I found my wooden dinosaur, which all these years have lasted, And I cremated it and put it with dad’s ashes in an urn. Below a gravestone with three words on it: ”Stingy bastard”
My daddy made a dinosaur with balsa wood and glue, Which is all very quaint, but I’d rather eat foie gras inside a PorscheTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
