Look Mum, No Hands
Business, as usual
Starts with the sound
Of another damn funeral march
Through the town
One less for Saint Nicholas
There's nothing so vile
Or as sad and ridiculous
As the coffin of a child
He flies through the air
With the greatest of ease
That daring young man
In the blue dungarees
Struck down by the G-force
Of a Semtex surprise
He bucks like a sea horse
Keels over and dies
With his eyes all dramatic
Glazed and confused
The full metal jacket,
Trousers and shoes
He flies through the air
With the greatest of ease
That daring young man
In the blue dungarees
And his poor pathetic parents
So stricken with grief
That they spelt his name wrong
On his funeral wreath
Are appealing for no vengeance
On behalf of their son
But they've already assembled
And planted the bomb
He flies through the air
With the greatest of ease
That daring young man
In the blue dungarees
Struck down by the G-force
Of a Semtex surprise
He bucks like a sea horse
Keels over and dies