Lyrics:

Some are in the garden with a bottle of Chardonnay, pinkies up in the air**lf**We steppin'' over the gruesome twosome, still making out on the stairs**lf**There''s a whole load of bodies, kinda hard to tell**lf**Could be a menage-a-many from hell**lf**And I don''t know who''s doing what to whom, but surely they are doing it well**lf****lf**Whatever does you good**lf**Lifts your skirt**lf**Gets you done**lf**Unbuttons your shirt**lf**Wakes you up**lf**Turns your head**lf**Hits the spot**lf****lf**That guy from the dealership he can''t be still, he''s bouncing up and down all the time**lf**Luvvies in the kitchen, full of virtue and compassion, you hear that righteous whine**lf**A bunch a freaking eejits swivelling on their digits, dumber than the average bear**lf**OMFG the state of me, man, whatever happened to my hair**lf****lf**Whatever does you good**lf**Lifts your skirt**lf**Gets you done**lf**Unbuttons your shirt**lf**Wakes you up**lf**Turns your head**lf**Hits the spot**lf**Well, now you''re talkin''**lf****lf**Ring-tone Joe is gazing in the bowl, he''s deep-arm fishing for his phone**lf**Renee is full of guilt, she''s had it up to the hilt, but it''s far too soon to go home**lf**The neighbours are screaming and banging on the wall, our music is not to their taste**lf**This thing''ll end badly if it ends at all, man, the place is getting laid to waste**lf****lf**Whatever does you good**lf**Lifts your skirt**lf**Gets you done**lf**Unbuttons your shirt**lf**Wakes you up**lf**Turns your head**lf**Hits the spot**lf**Now you''re talkin''**lf**