Half-past twelve
And I'm weighing an anchovy in my crappy bungalow all alone
How I hate to spend the evening on my own
Bottom winds
Blowing after my fish-eggs as I look around the room
And it makes me so depressed, I mis dishoom
There's not a soul out there
So I turn to Twitter
Gimme, gimme, gimme some cash after midnight
Won't somebody help me chase the Tories away?
Gimme, gimme, gimme for my scam after midnight
Take me through the lights off to Patreon pay day
TV stars
Find their own cookery shows with a fortune to win
It's so different from the world of slop from tins
Tired of TV
I open my inbox looking for someone in plight
But there's nothing there to see, no one in sight
There's not a soul out there
So I go on Tinder
Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight
Won't somebody get me some new Tiffany?
Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight
Will make your fam my in laws by the break of the day
Gimme, gimme, gimme a sugar mamapapa after midnight
Gimme, gimme, gimme PayPals after midnight
Gimme, gimme, gimme J1g after midnight
Don't make me have to work to get my Orangery