The Party

Ding dong, ding dong

Hi! Hey! Sorry we're late

You're not the first

Oh Great!

Hey listen I'm sorry but we can't stay late

So we parked in the middle at the top by the gate

On the grass with the crass Volkswagen estate

Whose is it? Mine! You're kidding, it's great! (Jesus)

I just love the way he's used the car like an empty canvas

And let the rust eat itself into the overall design

With such devastating spontaneity

David you're ignoring me, come here

Who do you have to fuck to get a drink `round here?

It's art David, neo-functional mannerism

Cerebral but oblique

It's one star four owner shagged out chic

One star four owner shagged out chic

You're a cocksucker Michael

You are what you eat David!

Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong

Darling, darling, Hi darling

Hello darling John! Ben! John! Sandy! John! Somerset! John!

Weekend! John! Wendy! John! Kevin! Got any?

No but I've got champagne!

Hi, hi, hi there.

Damn it I know you're in a bit of a spot

And you're used to the Merc and the Moet and the yacht

And it must be a blow to the ego, what!

But forget about this video rot

And write yourselves a hit or three

Like "I'm Not in Paris" or "The Dean and Me"

I mean really I don't like your stuff very much

It's too avant garde and aggressive and butch

I prefer a gentle and melodic touch

But the kids today have got their ears in their crutch

If it's not robots singing in Dutch

It's Adam and the Ants and Starsky and Hutch

By the way here's your present, Thanks very much

Now who's here?

The Prews, the Magoos, the Targetts and the Benmen

Johnny Peruvian, Marathon Man,

Blonde and the dangerous cameraman

Hello. The Prews, the Magoos, the Targetts, and the Benmen

Brando, Banacek, Pusher, Taker,

Student Prince and cocktail shaker

Hello. The Prews, the Magoos, the Targetts, and the Benmen

Tim Clinch Vicar's son, Prince Buster meets Tweedledum...

Hello. The Prews, the Magoos, the Targetts, and the Benmen

Well Jesus Christ is that the time

I could have sworn it was only twenty to nine

Hello Susan darling you look divine

Anyway we'd better be off before we get blocked in

So give our regards to the Paul and the Lynnes

And the swankys and the chatters and the Tequila twins

Sorry Attilla's brides

Anyway must go, must fly, don't drink yourselves to death

But the baby is allergic to the babysitter's breath

And she'll have her boyfriend in a vice-like grip

On the backgammon table sucking guacamole dip

Through the holes in his stockings, isn't it shocking!

Champagne.

I hope the whole world comes to my birthday party

Oh boy my skin feels about an inch thick, how about you Ben?

I'm fine, another line?

Why is everybody talking in speech balloons

And disappearing in Tequila fumes

Another line? Fine.

I love you Ben, let me count the ways

Whoops here comes the Spaghetti Bolognaise

So I'm stuck in the toilet with Rick

And I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be

I think I'm gonna be, it's gonna be, I'm gonna be,

It's gonna be, gonna be, gonna be, it's gonna be

So long Rick

It's gonna be me and the bowl,

Me and the bowl

Me and the never ending bowl

Me and the bowl

Me and the bowl

Me and the never ending bowl

Me and the bowl

Me and the bowl

Me and the never ending bowl

I hope the whole world comes to my birthday party