Little boy, little boy
I’ve got something to show to you
A special kind of toy
Come closer for a better view
I’m sure for you it’s all brand new
So let me demonstrate a few
Of all the fun things it can do
Cos you’ll be sucked in, through and through
When I have had my way with you
Little boy! Little boy!
You used to keep him sweet
With a little chocolate treat
Or a nibble on your teat
But now that won’t suffice!
He wants merchandise!
Once upon a time you knew
That your baby loved you too
Now he only cares about Man U
The little shit just has a fit
When he wants a football kit
My job is to prey, on your children all day
When they’re sat down in front of their TVs
You wait week after week, just to hear your kid speak
But their first word's not “mummy” it’s “Tweenies!”
Give me an hour with your son, and I assure you when I am done
I'll have fully penetrated his psyche
I’ll leave my mark upon him, and cover every inch of skin
With sweat-shop crap like Reebok, Gap and Nike
Little girl, little girl
I’ve got something you wish you had
It glistens like a pearl
I know you really want it bad
So go and nag your mum and dad
Cos even though it makes them mad
They’ll shell out for whatever fad
That you saw on a TV ad
Cos their too scared to see you sad
Little girl! Little girl!
She can’t process any sort
Of basic rational thought
Why else would she have bought
A new Westlife CD!
And a Hollyoaks DVD!
Your daughter’s turned 13
She looks like a bad drag queen
Cos she’s just read a magazine
With make-up tips and free lipsticks
And now she’s padding out her tits
Such sweet innocence, so gullible and dense
The ingredients of a perfect consumer
Give me a prepubescent lass, and I’ll sexualise her ass!
There's an industry ready to groom her
If you dress like Britney Spears then, baby, don't be bitter
When you're getting followed home by men like Gary Glitter
And when it comes to wasting mummy’s money on high-street shite
You might be a virgin but you’re certainly not tight