The trash in the beauty spot

He's the cloud in the sky, he's the fly in the ointment

The nail in the parking lot



Let's give the man a hug then put him out to grass

Feel sorry for the bug, the one that's up his ass

We're pulling out the plug, we're turning on the gas

We're turning on the gas



And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream

And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing

Yeah he don't like dancing



He's the frog in the throat, he's the spot on the forehead

The crack in the window pane

He's the leak in the boat, he's the weed in the rosebed

The truck in the outside lane



So get the kids along and fill him up with love

Then sing a happy song yeah, really piss him off

Cos everything is wrong and nothing's good enough

It won't be good enough



And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream

And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing

And he don't like your face and he won't die laughing



So chuck it and run, he'll only make you mad

Just go and have some fun, the best you've ever had

And say "Shoot me with a gun if I ever get like that

Please don't let me get like that"



And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream

And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing

And he don't like your face and he won't die laughing.