Lyrics:

Alistair Jones lives in a house
Where the rain comes through the ceiling
Ought to be leaving soon
But he can't afford the rent
Of anywhere else to live
The chimney lets in the wind
And has a bird's nest on the top
And the water never stops running
And the local football club doesn't want him
And the local cricket club doesn't need him
And the local tennis club doesn't care for him
Poor Alistair Jones
Poor Alistair Jones
Poor Alistair Jones
Esquire
Alistair Jones wakes every day
In a bed that has no springs
On a bare wooden floor
There's no handle on the door
And the window's opened and can't be closed
Got no money to buy himself
Any reasonable clothes
Goes out catching cold
When the wild wind blows
And the local grocer's shop doesn't want him
And the local butcher's shop doesn't need him
And the local paper shop doesn't care for him
Poor Alistair Jones
Poor Alistair Jones
Poor Alistair Jones
Esquire
Alistair Jones, oh, oh