I Don’t Want to Join the Air Force

(Alright, you ready?)
No
(OK. Let's do it anyways)
Alright
(1, 2, 3)

I don't wanna join the Air Force
I don't wanna go to war
I'd rather hang around
Piccadilly Underground
And living on the earnings of a high-class lady
I don't want an Aphid up me arsehole
I don't want my bollocks shot away
I'd rather be in England
In merry, merry England
And fornicate my fuckin' life away
Gor blimey

Monday I rubbed her on the ankle
Tuesday I touched her on the knee
On Wednesday I confess, I lifted up her dress
On Thursday, I saw it, gor blimey
Friday I put my hand upon it
On Saturday she gave my balls a tweak
On Sunday after supper
I ran the ol' boy up her
And now she earns me seven quid a week
Oh!

I don't wanna join the Air Force
I don't wanna go to war
I'd rather hang around
Piccadilly Underground
And living on the earnings of a high-class lady
I don't want an Aphid up me arsehole
I don't want my bollocks shot away
I'd rather be in England
In merry, merry England
And fornicate my fuckin' life away

Hm
(What are bollocks?)
I dunno. I'm not sure what bollocks are. What are quid?
Ohhh, arse
(Arse, I'm pretty sure I know what an arse is)
I know, but they gotta fuckin' say it right
(Yeah)
Damn Brits
Let's Am-- we gotta Americanize this shit
(Alright, let's do it)
OK

I don't wanna join the Air Force
I don't wanna go to war
I'd rather just get by
Smokin' dope and getting high
And living on the earnings of a tax-free annuity
I don't want an Archer up my asshole
I don't want my balls shot away
I'd rather be in Vegas
In dirty fuckin' Vegas
And fornicate my fuckin' life away
Hell yeah!

Monday I never flew a sortie
Tuesday I did my IDE
On Wednesday I confess, I was at my master's class
On Thursday, five more safety briefings
Friday, a seven-hour standup
On Saturday they said no cross-country
On Sunday I said "Fuck it"
And told them they could suck it
And now I'm earnin' seven g's a week at Lockheed

I don't wanna join the Air Force
I don't wanna go to war
I'd rather just get by
Smokin' dope and gettin' high
And living on the earnings of a tax-free annuity
I don't want an Archer up my asshole
I don't want my balls shot away
I'd rather be in Vegas
In dirty fuckin' Vegas
And fornicate my fuckin' life away