Our Danny boynHe was a ladies mannOur Danny boynOh yes he had a plannTo find the perfect birdnAnd no he didn’t mind if he had to try a few along the waynOh no he didn’t mindnnHe’d cruise aroundnThe bars and clubs in townnHe’d scout the birdsnHe’d look ‘em up and downnHe’d take his charm and then he’d switch it onnHe knew which buttons he had to press it didn’t involve no web addressnnShe might look good yeahnShe might look nicenShe might have the perfect formnBut will you still want to squeeze those cheeks when she’s 34?nnExtremely literatenyou know in FHMnFrom nuts to loadednHe studies all of themnBut he doesn’t go near no not the top shelfnCause bringing classy birds back to his flat don’t wana see no filthnnLike a young Michael CainenAlfie’s the characternOr perhaps a bit more tough, like in “Get Carter”nnHe’ll pull the women innAnd then he'll spit them outnUnless she’s got a chestnlike Kelly Brook or Angelina’s poutnnShe might look good yeahnShe might look nicenShe might get inside your headnBut will she still be your Angelina Jolie when she farts in bed?nnNow he’s found the perfect looking birdnThey’ve moved in it’s 6 months onnShe’s got the body of a celebritynLying by him in a thongnHe thought his plan was flawlessnHe thought he’d had it figured outnBut after 6 months living with this chick she’s turned into a loutnnBecause she snores she farts yeah she burps then laughsnShe leaves her toenail clippings in the bathnnAnd our Danny boy’s thoughts confirm that she won’t even be his other half