So tired of the canteen food, recycled, wasted, eat it up
False coloring and flavoring
What strength that stops me throwing up?
Insipid pink the yoghurt gleams

The axle grease called margarine
The plastic cheese, the plastic bread
The grease that drips from each terrine
Pizzas scream like open sores

The toast-wood stoves pop us shoes
The pudding, chemical delight
It’s a tea and coffee, drown my blues

A man on television claims
To turn our waste to useful food
I would not be surprised to see
Shit biscuits in our work canteen
Shit biscuits in our work canteen
Shit biscuits in our work canteen

It’s a joke
Eat at home
Nowhere [?] to eat
An ulcer of your own
It’s a joke
Eat at home
With nowhere to be sick, litter to eat
An ulcer of your own
An ulcer of your own
An ulcer of your own

Don’t need to diet
Don’t need to slim
Being anorexic is a western whim

Don’t need to diet
Don’t need to slim
Being anorexic is a western whim

Don’t need to diet
Don’t need to slim
Being anorexic is a western whim

Don’t need to diet
Don’t need to slim
Being anorexic is a western whim

Anorexia nervosa
Anorexia nervosa
I’ve got anorexia nervosa
I’ve got anorexia nervosa
Anorexia nervosa