It't just like the old black and whites:
I'm walking down the street looking casual,
whistling straight out of the manual.
I chuck a brick through the glass, and nip off fast
into the night with a sack of swag.
I've got a sexy see-through dress,
crazy coat and nice leather hand bag.
I played it safe and robbed it all off the same dummy:
I know my colour sense can be a bit funny:

It's just a little Christmas Eve thieving:
better get back to do the decorations,
better get back - baby's started teething.

Now here's a brand new Mercedes:
I could try the old wire coathanger,
or jam in a Manchester hammer.
Beneath the seat - her we go - top stereo,
crappy CDs: the alarm's a berrer tune.
O jesus! Tied with bows,
more pressies than the whole estate gets.
'My darling man, I love you now and for eternity':
when my old man reads that, he'll want to marry me.

Next stop's the all-night garage,
to get in all those funny little bits
you leave until the very last minute:
cat food, satsumas and lots of chocolate -
empty the fridge - nappies, papers, fags,
Last job's the offy, and then back to the garden
where I left the bin bags.
I don't much like cooking, washing up and stupid mopping,
but I really don't mind a littly bit of shopping.