Shit Arm, Bad Tattoo

I could have put my head in a bucket full of porridge
And moaned about the hospital parking scheme
I would have saved 14 pounds
That I just splashed out on your second album
For that’s what it’s akin to
And furthermore
You’ve got a shit arm, and that’s a bad tattoo
You’ve got a shit arm, and that’s a bad tattoo
If you’re going to quote from the Book of Revelation
Don’t keep calling it the Book of Revelations
There’s no «s», it’s the Book of Revelation
As revealed to St John the Divine
See also Mary Hopkin
She must despair
You’ve got a shit arm, and that’s a bad tattoo
You’ve got a shit arm, and that’s a bad tattoo
Authentic celtic band…
Advent in the High Street
I point and sing
Busk when it’s Christmas, you only busk when it’s Christmas
And you’ve got a shit arm, and that’s a bad tattoo
You’ve got a shit arm, and that’s a bad tattoo
Shit arm, bad tattoo
Shit arm, bad tattoo
Shit arm, bad tattoo
Shit arm, bad tattoo (you've got a)
Shit arm, bad tattoo (you've got a)
Shit arm, bad tattoo (you've got a)
Shit arm, bad tattoo
Ah well you’ve got a shit arm, and that’s a bad tattoo