poor joey

ian dury

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

poor joey

poor joe

poor joey

a bundle of joy then

poor joey

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

poor joey

poor joe

poor joey

every christmas they try and get me plastered

poor joey

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

poor joey

poor joe

poor joey

a bundle of joy then

poor joey

poor joey

poor joe

poor joey

poor joe

poor joey

poor joe

poor joey

poor joe