NO SHEEP 'TIL BUXTON ƒ  B E F# A D G#m Went up in the hills, we were on a binge, to look for some pubs and hunt some minge, Didn't find any beer, we just found sheep, (so fucking many, it put the Bleater to sleep) Sheep in the fields and under the trees, sheep in the houses and under your feet Sheep on the pavement, sheep in the car, sheep in the pubs, We all got barred (baahed) Sheep, everywhere, the little woolly fuckers are all over the place Sheep, everywhere, they're fighting for the one with the prettiest face This is what locals get up to at night, Trying to get anthrax and make sure the ewe's tight Sunk to the nuts while they're rodding a ram, Just as well hung for a sheep as a lamb Sheep shit on their foreskins and all over their suits Little black pellets in their wellington boots Sheep shit on their trousers, all over their flies Don't let the farmer pull the wool over your... Knob Sheep, everywhere, mutton daggers at the ready and a bowl of mint sauce Sheep, everywhere, they're going to get a bleating from the mother in law Bleat! Baa! Moo! etc Sheep, everywhere, all the farmer's daughters have a sheepskin coat Sheep, everywhere, they've got to wear a woolly if they want to pull a bloke. ©1988 The Macc Lads TRACK CHAT HORRID HUNDRED