Album Name : The Lads from Macc
Release Date : 2010-10-18
Song Duration : 3:43
Macc Lads Mister Methane
I must be going soft, or I'm turning paranoid,
Its been over a week since I went out with the boys
I've not been down the football, I've missed two
stoppy-backs
I haven't been disgusting when I'm chatting-up the
crack
I've not been sick or waved me dick at fanny in the
street
Poured bitter down me arsehole or drank a pint of piss
Or slashed through letterboxes, ate kebabs and puked
them up
Then I found this old phone number and I thought:
"Oh what the f..ck- I'll ring it up."
"Help me Mr Methane, what the bollocks can I do?"
His secretary says she's got the Kremlin on line two,
And Maggie Thatcher's got a problem with the TUC
And Mr Methane's sorting out the German Unity
I said: "Sod the Bank of England and the economy,
Hang the commie bastards, twat the EEC,
I've got a problem with my beer and sex and chips n
gravy
And I haven't beat a poof up since a week last
Saturday,
Haven't had a shag since Tuesday, (I forgot to throw
her out)
I only drank ten pints last night (its practically
nowt)
The secretary says: "I see, I'll get him for you fast!"
Mr Methane came, picked up the phone, and offered his
advice
With a blast........
I slammed the phone down, pegged it down the local like
a shot,
Drinking beer like something that drinks beer a f..cking
lot
Rammed me knob right down the gob of the nearest bird
to me
Took her back, filled her crack, then said: "You've got
HIV,
But don't worry, if you hurry, there's a number you can
call,
He sorts out massive problems, and viruses are small,
So f..ck off to the phonebox, slag, or I'll give you the
boot,
She rang up Mr Methane and he cured her instantly....
With a poot.
If you've got a cough, your bitter's off, or you just
can't get dead pissed,
Got no fags, the wife's a drag, kidnapped by
terrorists,
Or something's wrong with the plane you're on and its
crashing in the sea,
Call up Mr Methane, he's cured AIDs and dysentry,
Famines, floods and tidal waves and cancer of the heart
And he'll even tell you who will win the two o'clock at
York....
With a fart.