PILES ƒ  G C D A She came from Biddulph, and she called me "duck" I'd seen her picture in a dirty book, Something secret made her give it up, She wouldn't spill the beans But something's the matter, coz my car seat smelled She had the hardest pair of panties that I've ever felt She must be wearing a chastity belt - I couldn't get in her jeans. She said: "Can you keep a secret?" and confided in me "Don't go telling nobody!" I said: "This bastard's going on the next LP!" And I yelled at the top of my lungs... She's got piles up her arse, piles up her bum, piles up her fanny and a sore rectum Piles up her arse, piles up her bum, and bunions She can't wipe her arse, and her gusset's soiled By the pus dripping out of her haemmoroids Everybody's calling her Olive Boil She said: "Don't take the piss" Nodules up her bottom and pink polyps Warts up her sphincter and her buttock lips She leaves mucus wherever she sits "Hey, lads! Look at this!" She's got piles up her arse, piles up her bum, piles up her fanny and a sore rectum Piles up her arse, piles up her bum, and bunions Everytime she squats upon my face My nose gets full of evil-smelling paste My eyes get blinded by a bright pink bunch of grapes ©1991 The Macc Lads N.B- "The Potteries" -The area around Stoke on Trent, including the delightful Biddulph-            where the locals greet you by saying: "Eh Up! Me Duck!"       ... We're not precisely sure what this means, so we tend to reply with violence-            just to be on the safe side. TRACK CHAT HORRID HUNDRED