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macc lads - desperate dan lyrics

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the big fat chud wobbled home one night, singing:
‘woah, maccy maccy’
after twenty eight pints.
had a bit of trouble getting the key in the door,
his belly dragged him downwards and his face hit the
floor.
spilt curry down his shirt, soaked through to the vest,
p-sses in his jeans as he tries to undress,
trousers round his ankles, he bangs into the door,
decides to have a p-ss in the cutlery drawer

then he starts to vomit on the telly by the wall,
she must have been to comet,
coz that c-nt wasn’t there before.

he pukes and he pukes, but there’s no stopping,
new picture on the stairs, the old bag’s been shopping.
he spews and he spews then its time to relax,
he props himself up on the edge of the bath.
one last puke strains his whole body,
out of his -rs- plops a vindaloo jobby.
bile out the front end, b-m-sick out the back,
vomit in the toilet, diarrhoea all over the bath.

then his b-ttock hits the hot tap and his chubby legs
collapse,
his jeans are round his ankles,
the big fat b-st-rd falls backwards into the bath

his arms and legs are waving, they’re flapping like
f-ck,
but the sh-t’s sealed him in, and the fat c-nt’s stuck.
he flounders in the tub, but he’s a perfect fit,
t-rds down his back, his front’s borted in sick.
he grabs at the taps to pull himself clear,
but he hasn’t got a clue about the trouble at the rear,
he crawls into bed, covered in sh-te,
and tries to cuddle up to his extremely fat and ugly
wife.

she hits him with a small brush
he’s landed on the floor, she says:
‘you smelly fat walrus, you live at number 24.’



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