Indoor fireworks amuse your kitchen staff
Dusting plastic garlic plants they snigger in the draught
When you ride through the parlour wearing nothing but your armour
Playing indoor games
One string puppet shows amuse your sycophantic friends
Who cheer your rancid recipes in fear they might offend
Whilst you loaf on your sofa, sporting falsies and a toga
Playing indoor games, indoor game
Your mean teetotum sins arouse your seventh wife
Who pats her sixty little skins and reinsures your life
Whilst you sulk in your sauna ’cause you lost your jigsaw corner
Playing indoor games, indoor games
Each afternoon you train baboons to sing
Or swim in purple perspex water wings
Come Saturday jump chopper, Chelsea brigade
Hard bender-trender
It’s all indoor games
No ball bagatelle incites your children to conspire
They slide across your frying pan and fertilise your fire
Still you and Jones go madder, broken bones, broken ladder
Hey ho
Yeah, *laughter*
Hey ho, *laughter*
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