Saturdays boys live life with insults, Drink lots of beer and wait for half time results, Afternoon tea in the lite-a-bite - chat up the girls - they dig it!
Saturdays girls work in Tesco's and Woolworths, Wear cheap perfume 'cause its all they can afford, Go to discos - they drink Babycham - talk to Jan - in bingo accents.
Saturdays kids play one arm bandits, They never win but that's not the point is it? Dip in silver paper when their pints go flat, How about that - far out!
Their mums and dads smoke Capstan non filters, Wallpaper lives 'cause they all die of cancer, What goes on - what goes wrong.
Save up their money for a holiday, To Selsey Bill or Bracklesham Bay, Think about the future - when they'll settle down, Marry the girl next door - with one on the way.
These are the real creatures that time has forgot, Not given a thought - its the system - Hate the system - what's the system?
Saturdays kids live in council houses, Wear v-necked shirts and baggy trousers, Drive Cortinas - fur trimmed dash boards, Stains on the seats - in the back, of course!
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