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 Crannog 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 Crannog 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