Hot leg - Chickens

All on my own and I just can't cope
I haven't seen a hot dinner or a bar of soap
Since you left me bereft of hope
Now all I ever seem to do
Is mope around my tiny little council flat
Nothing up my sleeve, nothing under my hat

And the clock just keeps on ticking
There's nobody here but this chicken
And the clock just keeps on ticking
There's noboty here but us chickens

All on my own and it echoes when I cough
My life seems to flutter by like a moth
Shaking all the empty cans, nothing but froth
Nothing to cook with and nothing to eat off
Came the wheels, down fell the facade
I thrilled to your squeals as I twisted my blade

And the clock just keeps on ticking
There's nothing here but this chicken
And the clock just keeps on ticking
There's nobody here but us chickens.