Come to the market and sample an orgy
Come to the fair for a thruppenny thrill
Sell him a tomb or a tumbler of strychnine
If you don't there's plenty of others that will
If you don't there's others that will
But what shall we do with the ugly ones
The ones who have nothing to sell
The failures the fumbling muddly ones
Who never do anything well
Who never remember their name or number
And lose their place in the queue
And what can you do for the ugly ones
When they can't do a thing for you
Roll up roll up to the mechanised peepshow
Bow down bow down in the temple of lust
What am I bid for the lips of bravado
And Anita's marvellous marvellous bust
And Anita's marvellous bust
But what shall we do with the ugly ones
Who just haven't got what it takes
Whose breasts won't boost the marketing charms
Or win the nubility stakes
Their legs won't sustain the ad man's campaign
Or front the glamour parade
And no one invests in the ugly ones
The ones who won't make the grade
Dress yourself smart for the paysetter's party
Dance to the swing of the treandsetter's call
The prince is cool in an Aston Martin
Eying Cinderella she's the belle of the ball
Cinderella's the bell of the ball
But what shall we do with the ugly ones
The crippled the sick and the old
Who haven't got anything left to do
But shroud themselves off from the cold
Give them a penny - they haven't got any
It's time for the charity game
But we can't change the rules for the ugly ones
And nobody here's to blame
The moth-eared midget is starting to fidget
Soon it will be his turn to go
The flesh and the fur are starting to stir
Hurry up dear or we'll miss the show
Be quick or we'll miss the show
But what shall we do with the ugly ones
The freaks with nothing to sell
The stupefied stunted shell-shocked ones
In their halitosic hell
They can't stand the pace of the status race
Or cash in on the rush to rebel
And there's nothing to do for the ugly ones
The ones with nothing to sell