Twenty Four Hour Garage People
I fancy I’ll open a stationer’s
Stock quaint notepads for weekend Pagans
While you were out at The Rollright Stones
I came and set fire to your shed
‘Cos you probably work at an all-night garage
You probably work at an all-night garage
You probably work at an all-night garage
With Talk Radio on
And you curse my soul if I don’t want petrol
Curse my soul ‘cos I don’t want petrol
I only came down for a tube of Pringles
…Sour Cream and Chives
Because you gotta get up off your fat arse to go and get my crisps and you gotta go around the counter and it’s really inconvenient; and when you come back, you toss them into that sliding metal tray device thing that separates us and you say: “One pound thirty-five”, as opposed to: “That’ll be one pound thirty-five please, sir”. This is of course done to annoy me but has the opposite effect of amusing me no end, because suddenly I’ve got other things to buy…
“I’ll have two Scotch eggs and a jar of Marmite,
Two Scotch eggs and a jar of Marmite
Two Scotch eggs and a jar of Marmite
…what sandwiches have you got?”
Well now you become quite irate and your voice becomes louder, and you start to sound like Leadbelly at the Depot…
“I got ham, I got cheese, I got chicken, I got beef,
I got tuna-sweetcorn; I’ve got tuna-sweetcorn…”
“I’ll have ten Kit-Kats and a motoring atlas
Ten Kit-Kats and a motoring atlas
And a blues CD on the Hallmark label
– that’s sure to be good”
Oh he went to play golf on a Sunday morn’ just a mile and a half from town
His head was found on the driving range and his body has never been found
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