He's just a stereotype He drinks his age in pints He has girls every night But he doesn't really exist

He spends his weekends with a load of blokes He forgets the punchline when he tells a joke He wants to stay out, he don't want to go home 'Til his nicotine fingers are stuffed down his throat

He's just a stereotype He drinks his age in pints He drives home [bad word] at night And he listens to his stereo

He blamed his fiancée when he caught VD The doctor said no drink for seventeen weeks He wants to go out but he has to stay home Sit in and watch colour TV on his own

He's just a stereotype He drinks his age in pints He drives home [bad word] at night And he listens to his stereo

The tablets are finished, the cure [bad word] He hasn't had a drink now for seventeen weeks Seventeen pints, tonight is the night It goes straight to his head, he ends up in a fight

Police chase him home through the dark rainy night Fluorescent jam sandwich with flashing blue light His mums waiting up, she hopes he's alright But he's wrapped round a lamp post on Saturday night

He's just a stereotype He drinks his age in pints He has girls every night He doesn't really exist