Rich Pickings 歌词

Rich pickings from the wastrels Rich pickings from the hand of man These fine beaks can find What you leave behind Because we're not fussy We don't care We're not proud We're loud. We'll scrabble in the rubbish like the poorest poor We're cheeky, and sneaky, and beaky what is more We find our future in plastic bags Hidden among the rubble and worn out rags. We poke our noses into unsavoury places Juicy morsels of onion and fruit Tasty treads of jam and jellied pigs foot Rancid burgers in chocolate spread Squashed in sand and mouldy bread. You are fastidious We are omnivorous We own the franchise on this catering midden We will find what you try to keep hidden Because we are ravenous.