VI
By missing one appointment,
I’m no longer on their list,
thus, my pearly whites,
to them, no longer do exist,
so, if my gums start bleeding
there’s no national elixir,
I will join the achy crowd,
called the pincer-wincers!
Chorus (x4 at the end)
Scream! Pull! Scream! Spit!
Pop co-codamol!
For we’re the pincer-wincers,
who’ve been left out in the cold!
V2
Then there’s roofer Alex,
who hails from Basingstoke,
telling us his story,
that he ails from his throat,
his pliers act as doctor,
his food is made in mincers,
now he joins a hurting crowd,
called the pincer-wincers!
V3
It is so hard to smile,
in such a pantomime,
a true logo, of this should be,
Barclay’s broken canine,
a fight can be extraction,
including them called Windsor,
so, let’s all join a painful crowd,
called the pincer-wincers!