From a CD by the Twits called Albert Road
(Les Russell, Rob Steel, Lush Aston)
Switch off the lights. Pull out the phone.
Lock up the door. Pretend no-one's home.
You're gonna hate it cos here comes Uncle Les.
He'll take your dole, he'll bot your smokes.
He'll take all your gear and use all your jokes.
He's got his bags, he's comin' to stay.
If you let him in he won't go away.
Uncle Les can't you see, just 'cos you family
You're not stayin' here with me, Uncle Les...
He'll sleep on your couch, he'll bum off your mates...
Eat your leftovers straight from your plate.
You're gonna hate it 'cos here comes Uncle Les.
He gambles like hell, I think he's on smack.
He'll take everything and the shirt from your back.
I really don't like him he's a parasite.
But mother says you gotta treat him right...