i may be ugly

with a face like a crab's bus ticket

and skin like a llama's door mat

he was always gonna struggle

nature had seen to that

he dreamt of those old-fashioned movies

where bogart gets the dame

but a lorry load of lorre

is still the score of pain

and he sings

i may be ugly

but i've got the bottle-opener

he may be fat but he's got the cork-screw

and in the party party politics of this ugly fame

there is no orderly queue

with a chin like a tramp's juke-box

and eyes like a rhino's ash-tray

it was always going to be pantomime

that made him sing and dance anyway

when you feel like london

and you look like hull

you think travolta pulled newton - john

who did john hurt pull?

and they compliment the compliment

and it's driving you insane

it's like talking to a helicopter

when you know that you're a plane

breath like a mountain goat's satchel

nose like a pool of sick

but you always leave your flies ahoy

'cause the world wants to suck your dick

let it suck!

and he sings

i may be ugly

but i've got the bottle-opener

he may be fat but he's got the cork-screw

and in the party party politics of this ugly fame

there is no orderly queue