ALTON TOWERS ƒ  E B A F# Bank Holiday Monday, Sunday hours, let's fuck off to Alton Towers. Ten to two, quite a few in the queue for the bumper cars, Fit crack on the lake, but her mate's got a flabby arse, let's hit the bar, But! Where's the fucking pub? Where's the fucking ale? We don't want to queue for the mono-fucking-rail Where's the fucking crack? They're middle-aged mums, with big flabby bums. The black hole queue's past the entrance gate, I've been with Sweaty Betty, and its not worth the wait. Wouldn't stand in a queue for all the tea in China, I'd rather lick the hairs on a dead dog's vagina. ©1988 The Macc Lads TRACK CHAT HORRID HUNDRED