He's the wasp in the jam, he's the dad at the party
  The trash in the beauty spot
  He's the cloud in the sky, he's the fly in the ointment
  The nail in the parking lot
  
  Let's give the man a hug then put him out to grass
  Feel sorry for the bug, the one that's up his ass
  We're pulling out the plug, we're turning on the gas
  We're turning on the gas
  
  And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream
  And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing
  Yeah he don't like dancing
  
  He's the frog in the throat, he's the spot on the forehead
  The crack in the window pane
  He's the leak in the boat, he's the weed in the rosebed
  The truck in the outside lane
  
  So get the kids along and fill him up with love
  Then sing a happy song yeah, really piss him off
  Cos everything is wrong and nothing's good enough
  It won't be good enough
  
  And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream
  And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing
  And he don't like your face and he won't die laughing
  
  So chuck it and run, he'll only make you mad
  Just go and have some fun, the best you've ever had
  And say "Shoot me with a gun if I ever get like that
  Please don't let me get like that"
  
  And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream
  And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing
  And he don't like your face and he won't die laughing