An ode to those who touch themselves in public at night time

Doof-doof-doof-doof-etc

Little wanker boy
Livin’ in suburbia
His perfectly coiffed hair
Makes him feel holier

Little wanker boy
Lookin’ for some birds
He can’t call them women
The insecure little turd

Little wanker boy
Puttin’ on his top
Pink and pretty and macho
‘Specially with collar popped

Little wanker boy
Puttin’ on his fumes
We call it cologne
He calls it ‘perfume’

Little wanker boy
Wearin’ mirrored glasses
Without anyone knowing
He’s checkin’ out some asses

Little wanker boy
Shufflin’ around the town
Lookin’ ever so fashionable
Wearin’ his pants half down

Little wanker boy
Arrivin’ at the club
Thinks he’s the fo-shiz
He’s looking much the dud

Little wanker boy
Finally gets inside
He goes to the floor
Struts imaginary pride

Little wanker boy
Shakin’ it real hard
Insert a pelvic thrust
Lookin’ like a retard

Little wanker boy
Tries another line
“Oi, wanna root?”
“Get lost, you little swine”

Little wanker boy
Chasin’ up some tail
Forgive them if they run
‘Cos it’s slimy like a snail

Little wanker boy
Circlin’ ‘round some gals
Doesn’t penetrate the group
He frauds success to pals

Little wanker boy
Fails for another night
Drunk on half a bottle
He tries to start a fight

Little wanker boy
Stumblin’ on the highway
His head in the gutter
He purges the night away

Little wanker boy
Back to his yuppie land
He goes into his room
And gives himself a hand
…shandy, that is

Thanks to Brian and Daniel for contributions