I've got decisions, decisions, decisions,

Chips or mash,

I've got decisions, decisions, decisions,

Corned beef hash with cheese and peas,

With gravy?

Or sauce?

Well of course, I'd better have some brown sauce,

Brown sauce, brown sauce, goes so well on savoury dishes,

Especially bacon sarnies,

Or lasagne,

Or of course I could just squirt it my mouth,

Have a right laugh,

Such decisions, so many decisions,

Cup of squash or milk,

New dressing gown, new dressing gown,

Cotton or silk,

Now silk is too slippy,

But rather regal,

But cotton is the one that'll keep you happy all winter,

I hate winter,

Shall we move, somewhere where it's warm all year,

Where there are less racists?

Does that exist?

Not so sure.

Hmmm, decisions, so many decisions.

And I'm bored I'm so bloody bored,

So I decide to ride my motorbike through the lounge,

Wearing leather cap, double denim,

Tina Turner playing on the stereo.

Mouth full of brown sauce,

Oh decisions, such decisions,

Now I'll decide to go to bed,

But my mind has other plans,

It decides to think about every occasion where I've embarrassed myself,

And there's a lot.

So I decide that there's nothing I should ever be embarrassed about,

Even the time, that I wiped my bum with my socks in the old blue last,

For some reason I tried to flush em down the bogs and the flood came out of the cubicles and into the venue, what a decision.

And someone shouted, who would decide to do that?

It was me, bad decisions.

Shall we decide to just decide,

To love each other till my brain is mush,?