Oh god its another nightnAnd your head is feelingnLike a lump of leadnYou should never have drunknThose party-foursnYou should of been home being good insteadnnEver been in a deja vuenand the end is the same againnYou ran out of your silver thinsnAnd you're trying to be so high classnThough you need a bath and your hair's looking like stringnAnd though you're nearly broke you end up paying for all the drinksnAnd you tell them 'Oh its nothingnThere's a million where those come from'nAnd then you whisper to your longest-suffering friendn'Please lend me a few quid'nnOh god it's another daynAnd your stomach's feelingnLike a blown-up balloonnYou should never have eaten that greasy foodnThe doctor told you that chile was bad for your bloodnnAnd you're standing at the chemist in BootsnCoughing up your guts like you're at deaths doornAll this for a packet of Do-Do'snAnd the assistant gives you a wink and you turn bright rednIt's at time like this that you wish you were deadnAnd you take the whole packet and you feel like you've drunknA bottle of bleachnAnd you tell yourself 'Never, never againnWell, not until next week anyway'nAnd you were never one for holding drinknAnd you stagger off to the toiletnAnd you throw up like it was ChristmasnAnd you miss the bowl and you hit your shoesnAnd there's no paper towelsnNow what else can go wrong for younIt's a choice between a cab fare homenAnd a packet of cigarettesnSo you choose and the money sticksnIn the machine and the manager saysn'Tough shit - drink up and leave'nnOh god it's another diseasenAnd you just got rid of the lastnYou were beginning to feel OKnAnd the friends you gave it tonWere speaking to you again.nnAnd you find yourself having sexnIn the back of a carnAnd the girl underneathnDoesn't care who you arenAnd you're nearly therenAnd she still doesn't carenAnd her chewing gumnIs getting stuck in your hairnAnd there's something wrongnSomething that you forgotnOh Shit, you've forgotten the rubbernAnd you don't want a kidnWell, deny it was younIf your dad finds outnThen he'll make you stay innAnd do your homeworknAnd cut your hairnAnd wear your school uniformnOut in the streetnOh what a fate worse than deathnOh well he can't hit younYou can hit him backnAnd play your records so loudnAll the ones that he especially hatesnDeep Purple in Rock, Led Zeppelin IInWell even you hate thosenWell on second thoughtsnI think I'll leave homenAnd go and live in AmericanBecause they earn more money therenAnd they can get away with murder - Yeah!nnOh this is a Mugs gamenI can't wait until I'm twenty onenAnd I can tell them all to sod off.