Wake up, Theresa, I think I got something to say to you
It’s time for breakfast and you really should be eating food
I know you like gammon and ham, but I’ve only got some jam
Oh, Theresa, I couldn’t have fried eggs any more
Your bread is full of holes
And the jam has a layer of mould
Your roll is hard, and that’s what really hurts

I got The Sun, and it’s got your face on the front page
But that don’t worry me none, it’s the fungus on your marmalade

Your albumen and yokes
They’re giving me the dry boak
Oh, Theresa, I couldn’t have fried any more

Just eat your cereal
At least that’s bearable
Oh no, the milk has turned rancid now

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