Nobody wants apple pies
When they're wasted
When they're drowned
I'm not falling down
Nobody likes apple eyes
When they're drainage
When they're Cambridge
Behind glued pies

Oh
My drinks are always Pepsi
And my teeth are already clean
I have powers, only moly
When my own Buggles
had all everything else

But nobody knows why I was
was a Geordie fella
to be defeated
I'm not eating lies
Nobody wants a can of 7Up
Even I do one
Even I want 6
I want my drink

But my dress sense is Pat Cash As my only wish was to me
I have Casablanca, holy moly
When my own reading of Hitler
is Holly Valance

Nobody knows who I am
I'm Fack Sabbath
Writing spoofs, of the classics
on Amiright
Nobody wants a human league to eat
So I eat it
But I eaten it
Back in the day

But my fries have Chris Moyles
Oh, i am a Leeds boy, I so why
I had flowers, holy moly
But I greet my fun
With Listerine