The Fat Man - Paul Heaton, Jacqui Abbott

The train’s running late, but the bills are on time

Greggs and Social, there’s a permanent line

Y’all blaming the fat man, you all think that it’s him

Rather go McDonald’s or Burger King than go to the gym

Every toffee wrapper that’s dropped in the street

Seems to gravitate to the soles of your feet

Every time you return from your Saturday shop

Your neighbour’s eyes burn through the bags that you’ve got

Rich in Armani, poor in velour

Every takeaway’s a wide-open door

Nicotine chewing gum, e-cigarettes

The harder you try, the fatter you get

The betting shop’s open, the grocery’s shut

Every time you eat, there’s an almighty tut

Y’all think it’s the fat man, you all think that it’s he

You all think he carries a loyalty card for KFC

Whenever they show the obese on the 6 o' clock news

They only ever show the waistline down to the shoes

No face on the fat man, just a wobbling mass

Dead man walking all the way from the brain to the ass

Rich in Armani, poor in velour

Every takeaway’s a wide-open door

Nicotine chewing gum, e-cigarettes

The harder you try, the fatter you get

So as the fat man, he sits, staring into thin air

He’d choose the noose, but he’s broken the chair

He’d take a cruise, throw himself off the boat

He can’t swim, but he’d probably float

Rich in Armani, poor in velour

Every takeaway’s a wide-open door

Nicotine chewing gum, e-cigarettes

The harder you try, the fatter you get

Rich in Armani, poor in velour

Every takeaway’s a wide-open door

Nicotine chewing gum, e-cigarettes

The harder you try, the fatter you get