I’d buy a giant teddy
and a box of slimy slugs;
I’d buy a massive warehouse
full of Tottenham Hotspur mugs;
I’d buy a plastic lemon
and alpacas by the tonne
but I’d never, no I’d never,
no I’d never buy The Sun.
I’d buy some double glazing
and a fag pack from the Sixties;
I’d buy some little ornamental
fairies, elves and pixies;
I’d buy a truck of compost
and a gone-off currant bun
but I’d never, no I’d never,
no I’d never buy The Sun.
I’d buy an old guitar case
owned by some bloke out of Travis,
I’d buy a snip of dreadlock
from the head of Lenny Kravitz,
I’d buy a jumbo lolly
that’s been licked by everyone
but I’d never, no I’d never,
no I’d never buy The Sun.
I’d buy a skip of junk and tat
and random bric-a-brac,
I’d hand over some money
then I’d stuff it in my sack,
I’d buy a lot of pointless stuff
but when all’s said and done
I would never, no I’d never,
no I’d never buy The Sun
