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    When I was a young chap, just a little bouncing boy
    My family was not wealthy so I had to make do
    With second-hand pyjamas and a single wooden toy
    A dinosaur my daddy made with balsa wood and glue

    But when I turned thirteen and to high school off I trotted
    I knew immediately that my dino wouldn't do
    Cos I had noticed all the toys the other kids had gotted
    And I couldn't help myself, I wish that I had got them too

    My daddy made a dinosaur with balsa wood and glue
    But before too long I knew that my dino wouldn't do

    When I was fifteen years old I first turned to thieving
    To satiate my craving to have things the other kids had
    I stole a gnarly skateboard from a skating shop one evening
    It had bodacious fluoro railing and wicked fluoro skid pad

    By the following Monday morning the skateboarding turned to boredom
    My appetite for skating was abating in a flash
    So I sold my board and bought a pair of flippers and snorkel
    But soon I balked at snorkelling, forked my snorkel in the trash

    At eighteen I managed hedge funds and got fat by drinking beer
    At twenty I owned seven cars and houses on the coast
    I fell in love at twenty-three with a Swedish girl called Mia
    I bought a 200 quid toaster with which Mia made me toast

    At twenty-eight I went through like a Buddhist kind of thing
    And decided the material world and I were through
    I hooked up with some Buddhist chicks who said that they were twins
    But they didn't look that similar and they did stuff twins don't do

    But now I'm 47st and thirty-one years old
    I have a kitchen staff of 12, on-call 24 hours a day
    And a Page 3 girl I pay to lick chocolate from my folds
    And rent boy called Llewellyn though I'm neither Welsh nor gay

    Now those who judge my lifestyle to be gluttonous and brash
    And criticise my excess acquisition and consumption
    I say that critics of the wealthy are just those who don't have cash
    And who've never had a prostitute spread Marmite on their scrotum

    My father died a year ago, to dust he's now returned
    And I found my wooden dinosaur, which all these years has lasted
    And I cremated it and put it with Dad's ashes in an urn
    Below a gravestone with three words on it: Stingy fucking bastard

    My daddy made a dinosaur with balsa wood and glue
    Which is all very quaint, but I'd rather eat foir gras inside a Porsche

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