He's the wasp in the jam, he's the dad at the party The trash in the beauty spot He's the cloud in the sky, he's the fly in the ointment The nail in the parking lot Let's give the man a hug then put him out to grass Feel sorry for the bug, the one that's up his ass We're pulling out the plug, we're turning on the gas We're turning on the gas And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing Yeah he don't like dancing He's the frog in the throat, he's the spot on the forehead The crack in the window pane He's the leak in the boat, he's the weed in the rosebed The truck in the outside lane So get the kids along and fill him up with love Then sing a happy song yeah, really piss him off Cos everything is wrong and nothing's good enough It won't be good enough And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing And he don't like your face and he won't die laughing So chuck it and run, he'll only make you mad Just go and have some fun, the best you've ever had And say "Shoot me with a gun if I ever get like that Please don't let me get like that" And he don't like sunshine and he don't like icecream And he don't like Sundays and he don't like dancing And he don't like your face and he won't die laughing.