(Much as I am reluctant to tamper with The Master.....)

There you go and, Baby, here am I

Well, you left me here with all this fish to fry

I’ve thawed this cod and now you’ve quit your job

And you won’t batter anymore.

You bastard, Trish! So now you’ve got your wish

You left me here with all this fucking fish

There’s no flour dips so all we got is chips

Cos you won’t batter anymore.

There’s no use in me a-cryin’

I’ve run out of mix and now I’m stuck for fryin’

I’m beggin’ on my knees

We’ve pans of mushy peas

Cos of you.

So you’ve gone your way; I’m on my own

With packs of frozen haddock weighing seven stone

Your leaving means that I’ve just chips and beans

Cos you won’t batter anymore.

Just a minute!  Here’s the butcher’s boy

Well, shit a brick!  He’s brought more saveloy

“Damn your eyes!  I ordered tatie pies!

Cos she won’t batter anymore”.

There’s no use in me a-cryin’

I’ve run out of mix and now I’m stuck for fryin’

The lousy Koh-i-noor

Has got ‘em queueing out the door

Cos of you.

I’d wring your neck because I swear to God

Since you’re such a fuckin’ selfish sod

We can’t sell haddock and we can’t sell cod

Cos you won’t batter anymore.

You won’t batter anymore.