Donny of the Decks

Hey you! - with your face on the nightclub flyer
And the font that distorts your name
There's a man at a local phone box called Wayne
He claims that he gave you your first turntable
And a hat that you could wear indoors
He has tapes of you singing badly to sparks
In 1987
He was good with his hands!
He had fair rose hair
And he was good with his hands!
In a tie-dye frenzy
He was good with his hands!
And now he's sleeping in your bathroom
'Cause he's good with his hands!
I said in 1987
He was good with his hands!
He had fair rose hair
And he was good with his hands!
In a tie-dye frenzy
He was good with his hands!
And now he's sleeping in your bathroom
'Cause he's good with his...
Hey you! - with your eye on the dressing room entrance
And your feet on the crate of skol
There's a girl on the nightclub terrace called Clare
She's there! - To confront you with DNA evidence
'Cause the last time you were here
You retired to her place of residence
Oh dear!
'Cause in 1987
He was good with his hands!
He had fair rose hair
And he was good with his hands!
In a tie-dye frenzy
He was good with his hands!
And now he's sleeping in your bathroom
'Cause he's good with his hands!
I said in 1987
He was good with his hands!
He had fair rose hair
And he was good with his hands!
In a tie-dye frenzy
He was good with his hands!
And now he's sleeping in your bathroom
'Cause he's good with his...
So much for getting old
The stink of sex is undeniable!
So much for slowing down
The stink of sex is undeniable!
So much for dungarees
The stink of sex is undeniable!
So much for Tony Blair
The stink of sex is undeniable!
So much for getting old
The stink of sex is undeniable!
So much for slowing down
The stink of sex is undeniable!
So much for dungarees
The stink of sex is undeniable!
So much for Tony Blair
The stink of sex is undeniable!