Oh we'll manage some way
We'll throw our clothes away
Writhing in butter mixed with sand

How we laughed - I nearly died
Every time we slipped 'n' slide
Writhing in butter mixed with sand

We knew somehow this goo would never ring true
But that cow, and how! Had cost a bob or two

Now our limbs part and ache
And nothing once was faked
Writhing in butter mixed with sand

(Squelching noises mixed with whistling)

Now our limbs part and ache
And nothing once was faked
Writhing in butter mixed with sand