There’s a daddy long legs,
a crushed rain beetle
slim skinny jim on the brink again
under-umbrella’d, slip of a fella
he’s gonna turn to the drink
talking to the boys
with dirty fingernails
skinheads and ponytails
here’s the sledgehammer
there’s the fingernails
some dumb sucker’s
going off the rails
poor daddy long legs
washed away in the rain
just another little business
going down the drain
he won’t be back here again
finding a job, losing a job,
all in a day
finding a job, losing a job,
drinking the pay
what will the missus say
mr. grisly
he only wanted just a quiet job to do
poor mr. grisly cried,
the angels leave him aside
finding a job, losing a job,
call it a day
finding a job, losing a job,
drinking the pay
finding a job wasn’t what you thought
wasn’t what you always hand in mind
you wanna go home
poor mr. grisly, you can’t go home
poor mr. grisly, poor mr. grisly, poor mr. grisly
he can’t go home