Gun Club

I met you in Sunderland On a bench at the retail park You offered me KFC (two thighs) Then uncrossed your eyes You were wearing a football shirt And Primark dungarees Your hair smelled of chicken fat and tripe You'd just had a shite Colleen you were my Sunderland girl We threw bones at a passing bus You had to be in court next day For selling stolen goods I will never forget you We slept in bed next to your dad We used a chicken as a pillow In an Aldi carrier bag At breakfast you blew me a kiss And buttered my Weetabix You went to the magistrate's court by bus And got 18 months Colleen you were my Sunderland girl 16 stone and 4 foot 6 Your vape smelled of onions And your house of alsatian piss I will never forget you Nor the sights that you showed me But now you are chained to a wall Like the donkey by the KFC

doing the fucking agadoo with big man victor fara