macc lads – poodles lyrics
fat b-st-rd squeezes into his car, seatbelt’s too
small, but he’s not going far.
burns off into the countryside to a pub with real ale
and plenty of pies.
a dull thud gives the fatty a jolt, puts his weight on
the brakes,
brings the car to a halt.
there’s a poodle in the gr-ss on the verge, laid on its
back, paws in the air.
and so he huffs and he puffs to get out of the car
sweat on his head, bags round his -rs-
picking up a boulder from the edge of the field,
he puts a quick end to the dog’s misery
big rock breaks the little dog’s skull, fatty doesn’t
stop ’til the head is a pulp
kicks the carc-ss right under the weeds,
huffs back to his car, he’s late for his feed.
pulls up outside the “traveller’s rest”, big plate of
chips and a large chicken breast.
then a copper wanders into the snug, says he’d like a
quick word outside of the pub
and so he huffs and he puffs, trying to finish his
snack,
tells the pc he’s applied for his tax…
“we’ve had a call from mrs ball, who lives down the
lane,
she was out with her dogs, she was watching them play.
a motorist drove up so fast, it gave her a shock, he
ran bonzo down,
he screeched to a halt. got out of the car, was
overweight, and seemed out of breath,
he picked up a rock, and battered trixie to death.
if it wasn’t you, then tell the truth, explain if you
will,
why a poodle’s embedded in your radiator grill?”
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