Got My Beer In The Sideboard Here (Out-Take 2)

Mother phoned up last night, she was going spare, she was in a temper pulling
out her hair
You’re sister’s courtin' a scruffy looking ted, father don’t give a monkeys and
this is what he said:
I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care if he comes round here
I’ve got my beer in the sideboard here let Mother sort it out if he comes round
here
I said to me mother let me 'ave a talk to dad, so he comes to the telephone,
he wasn’t half mad
Said she’s got no sense silly little cow and if he comes round here there’s
gonna be a row
I’ll tell ya something else and all he’s never got a job, he hangs around the
betting shop the lazy little yob
Mother says calm down now, he’s alright, but they’re out there snogging in the
passage all night
I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care if he comes round here
I’ve got my beer in the sideboard here let Mother sort it out if he comes round
here
If he comes round here, I’ve got my beer, let Mother sort it out
In the sideboard here, got my beer, let Mother sort it out
I don’t care if he comes round here
You’d think he was a tramp with the stubble on his chin, he looks like
something that the cat’s brought in
Never got no money, smokes all my fags, got holes in his soles and he’s hanging
in rags
On top of that he said to tell ya why I’ve got the 'ump, she had a skinny
little belly now its sticking out the front
Nothing seems to fit her and she’s running out of clothes, if he keeps on
taking liberties I’ll punch him on the nose