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

Im 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!*



Poor Joey

Po