I'm Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world In Cranham 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 *who's a pretty boy then?* Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey A bundle of joy then Poor Joey *hello!*
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 I?m just to upset to 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 *she's a right bastard!* Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey Every Christmas they try to get me plastered Poor Joey *hello!*
Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch
Poor Joey *who's a pretty boy then?* Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey A bundle of joy then Poor Joey *hello!*
Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey Poor Joe Poor Joey *who's a pretty boy then?* Poor Joe *hello!*