It's the time of year
Now that Spring is in the air
When those two wet gits with their girly curly hair [parodying the appearance of Black Lace]
Make another song for moronic holidays
That nauseate-ate-ates
In a million different ways.
From the shores of Spain,
To the coast of southern France
No matter where you hide
You just can't escape this dance
The chorus, repetitions of which make up most of the song, runs:
"Ho-old ... a ... chicken in the air;
Stick a deckchair up your nose;
Buy a jumbo jet
And then bury all your clothes!
Paint your left knee green
Then extract your wisdom teeth;
Form a string quartet
And pretend your name is Keith!
Skin... your-... self alive;
Learn to speak Arapaho;
Climb inside a dog
And behead an Eskimo!
Eat a Renault 4;
Wear salami in your ears;
Casserole your Gran;
Disembowel yourself with spears!"
Here it is in all it's glory