I'm Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl
  I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world
  In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch
  Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch
  
  This is my routine: first I ponder and peck
  I look in the mirror and I shit on the deck
  I try to fly, I bang my head
  I think of something creative instead
  
  I ruffle my feathers and have a good scratch
  Spend at least half an hour trying to undo my catch
  Not as though I want to be deleted by an owl
  I've got to fight this awful situation somehow
  
  Poor Joey *who's a pretty boy then?*
  Poor Joey
  Poor Joe
  Poor Joey
  A bundle of joy then
  Poor Joey *hello!*
  
  How the ruddy hell does she expect me to speak
  With half a ton of cuttlefish stuck in my beak?
  I go into a moody, disdainfully preen
  I’m just to upset to mutter something obscene
  
  I appreciate the difficulties of owning a pet
  Speaking as a budgie, it's like Russian Roulette
  I was bred for the purpose and I shouldn't complain
  I know you'll forgive me when I sing this refrain
  
  Poor Joey *she's a right bastard!*
  Poor Joey
  Poor Joe
  Poor Joey
  Every Christmas they try to get me plastered
  Poor Joey *hello!*
  
  Joey the Budgie, I'm a boy or a girl
  I'm probably the most typical caged bird in the world
  In Cranham or Hounslow I sit on my perch
  Old Mother Nature's left me right in the lurch
  
  Poor Joey *who's a pretty boy then?*
  Poor Joey
  Poor Joe
  Poor Joey
  A bundle of joy then
  Poor Joey *hello!*
  
  Poor Joey
  Poor Joe
  Poor Joey
  Poor Joe
  Poor Joey *who's a pretty boy then?*
  Poor Joe *hello!*
  
  Poor Joey
  Poor Joe *cheerio!*