Mr. Williams sits on a grassy bank,

Thinking that life is a load of wank,

Then turns to his wife and says I’ll be Frank;

If I was tree I would soon be a plank.

Do you need those toes Mr. Williams?

Mr. Williams sits alone at home,

Thinking he’d rather be in Rome,

Playing loud music in the Catacomb,

Or feeding Beetles beneath the loam.

Do you need those toes Mr. Williams?

Mr. Williams drinks his pint in the pub,

And wallows in syrup at the Conservative club.

He turns to his wife and asks for a scrub,

So she covers his face in Vicks Vapour rub.

Do you need those toes Mr. Williams?

Mr. Williams sees Mr. Smith in Accounts,

And processes his debts in small amounts,

Then just as his head downstairs did bounce,

His loving wife his death did announce.

Do you need those toes Mr. Williams?

Mr. Williams told me he’s feeling quite bored,

With the girls last night he never scored,

But his wife as an angry lioness roared,

“I’m off you cunt, I’m moving abroad.”

Do you need those toes Mr. Williams?

Mr. Williams now cries at home all alone,

His wife in her pride cut him to the bone,

She screams at him “I don’t like your tone!”

So petrified he turned to stone.

You don’t need those toes Mr. Williams.