(Intro) (x4) Well Iâ??ve got a dead leg from kicking myself For letting our friendship fade away Aloysius Umbongo Nâ??Danga Oâ??Reilly Is hot on my heels with calamity powder. I saw you in Hoylake, edgy as ever Up on the red rocks a-whooping and a-hollering Six civic dignitaries â?? idiots all Heading out to Hilbre: I wouldnâ??t go that way. Dickheads in quicksand an hour from now I should have a word but Iâ??ve not had me dinner A place on the promenadeâ??s got what I need Do I scream for the beadle or go for the ham? Do I go for the ham? A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy (x2) A baguette dilemma. Flushed is the face that you hide in the lace Of your motherâ??s mantilla, a bilious affair Iâ??ve got a picture which nobody needs; A picture of Lord Gort in his underwear. Out of the ordinary into the drains Over the marshy Berwyn Ever the denizen never the norm Thatâ??s all very well but youâ??ve still got to eat. Iâ??ve heard Arthur and Omegaâ??s â??All You Can Stomachâ?� Is far and away your best bet You can eat in or take away Your call, what do you say? If you snack on the hoof youâ??ll still get to catch The massed ranks of the RNLI RNLI. A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy A baguette dilemma.