Where’s My F***ing Bike

Verse 1

It's that time of year again,

Stockings hung above the fire,

A letter to the big man,

Signed in pen with great desire.

So put out the milk, don't forget,

The reindeer need their share,

Get your PJs ready now,

For Christmas Day is nearly here.

Hoping this time around,

You'll get the present that you like,

You've asked for it year after year,

All you want's that fucking bike!

Chorus

Got stockings filled with bloody shit,

There's sod all by my bed,

Every year the same old crap,

I wanna beat that fat man's head!

Verse 2

It's been twelve years since you made your choice,

You're sick and tired of broken toys,

Just one thing you want the most,

You've been the guest, you've been the host.

It's been on your list not once but twice,

So Santa Claus, where's my fucking bike?

Chorus

Got stockings filled with bloody shit,

There's sod all by my bed,

Every year the same old crap,

I wanna beat that fat man's head!

Verse 3

All your mates are down the park,

They're playing in the snow,

Your disappointment and stubbornness,

You refuse to go.

'Cause in that moment, all you'd like,

Is to see your fucking bike!

Chorus

Got stockings filled with bloody shit,

There's sod all by my bed,

Every year the same old crap,

I wanna beat that fat man's head!

Outro

So Santa Claus, you've had your chance,

Next year you better get it right,

Twelve years I've waited patiently...

WHERE'S MY FUCKING BIKE?!