Poor Joey

I'm Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl

I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world

In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch

Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch

This is my routine: first I ponder and peck

I look in the mirror and I shit on the deck

I try to fly, I bang my head

I think of something creative instead

I ruffle my feathers and have a good scratch

Spend at least half an hour trying to undo my catch

Not as though I want to be deleted by an owl

I've got to fight this awful situation somehow

Poor Joey (who's a pretty boy then?)

Poor Joey

Poor Joe

Poor Joey

A bundle of joy then

Poor Joey (hello)

How the ruddy hell does she expect me to speak

With half a ton of cuttlefish stuck in my beak?

I go into a moody, disdainfully preen

And just to upset her, mutter something obscene

I appreciate the difficulties of owning a pet

Speaking as a budgie, it's like Russian Roulette

I was bred for the purpose and I shouldn't complain

I know you'll forgive me when I sing this refrain

Poor Joey (everyone's a bastard)

Poor Joey

Poor Joe

Poor Joey

Every Christmas they try and get me plastered

Poor Joey (hello)

Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl

I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world

In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch

Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch

Poor Joey (who's a pretty boy then?)

Poor Joey

Poor Joe

Poor Joey

A bundle of joy then

Poor Joey (hello)

Poor Joey

Poor Joe

Poor Joey

Poor Joe

Poor Joey (who's a pretty boy then?)

Poor Joe (hello)

Poor Joey

Poor Joe

(cheerio)