I don't know where it came from, this box of trash and such.

Perhaps somebody put it there to drive me bloody nuts!

I didn't buy those tatty books, those torches that don't shine,

That blob of Blu-tack lying there, I know it isn't mine.

I didn't buy these odds and sods along my bookcase shelf.

Perhaps they wanted me to think I purchased them myself.

Those packets in the pantry of things I never eat

Why do they keep on turning up?  I like to keep things neat.

Beneath the sink's a treasure trove of bottles, jars and such.

There's seven tins of Mister Sheen, I'll never use that much.

The bedroom drawers are full of junk that someone dumped in there,

What do I need with Brylcreem and glitter for my hair?

A hairless toothbrush lies there too, set lovingly behind

A box of condoms, why the hell are they there?  Oh, never mind!

Perhaps I have a squirrel living in my flat,

That litters me with magazines and other junk like that.

So listen up, you litter lout, I'm neat when on my own,

Go dump your garbage somewhere else and leave my place alone!