Lyrics:

Some are in the garden with a bottle of Chardonnay, pinkies up in the airWe steppin'' over the gruesome twosome, still making out on the stairsThere''s a whole load of bodies, kinda hard to tellCould be a menage-a-many from hellAnd I don''t know who''s doing what to whom, but surely they are doing it wellWhatever does you goodLifts your skirtGets you doneUnbuttons your shirtWakes you upTurns your headHits the spotThat guy from the dealership he can''t be still, he''s bouncing up and down all the timeLuvvies in the kitchen, full of virtue and compassion, you hear that righteous whineA bunch a freaking eejits swivelling on their digits, dumber than the average bearOMFG the state of me, man, whatever happened to my hairWhatever does you goodLifts your skirtGets you doneUnbuttons your shirtWakes you upTurns your headHits the spotWell, now you''re talkin''Ring-tone Joe is gazing in the bowl, he''s deep-arm fishing for his phoneRenee is full of guilt, she''s had it up to the hilt, but it''s far too soon to go homeThe neighbours are screaming and banging on the wall, our music is not to their tasteThis thing''ll end badly if it ends at all, man, the place is getting laid to wasteWhatever does you goodLifts your skirtGets you doneUnbuttons your shirtWakes you upTurns your headHits the spotNow you''re talkin''