Well, they say she’s too hot 
 Yeah but guess what? 
 I’ve got Joy Division oven gloves 
 If it’s her desire 
 I’ll put my fingers in the fire 
 ‘Cos I’ve got Joy Division oven gloves 
 I’ve got Joy Division oven gloves 

 Ooh ooh tropical diseases 
 Ooh ooh chemical alarm 
 Ooh ooh I’m a little blase 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 

 I’ve been here and I’ve been there 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 I’ve been to a post-punk postcard fair 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 Ooh ooh Nagasaki towpath 
 Ooh ooh tickling the laird 
 Ooh ooh checking out the Quantocks 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 

 On a sinking ship a sailor yearns 
 For his Joy Division oven gloves 
 Nero fiddles while Gordon Burns 
 In his Joy Division oven gloves 
 Talk to the hands, talk to the hands 
 In his Joy Division oven gloves 
 Dance dance dance dance 
 In your Joy Division oven gloves 

 Ooh ooh piccalilli shinpads 
 Ooh ooh polishing the nave 
 I keep wicket for the Quakers 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 
 In me Joy Division oven gloves 

 My grandfather’s clock was too tall for the shelf 
 So I sold it and opened up a stall 
 Selling Joy Division oven gloves 
 We got Joy Division oven gloves 
 Get your Joy Division oven gloves 
 Hallelujah