The Macc Lads Alton Towers

Bank Holiday Monday, Sunday hours, let's fuck off to Alton Towers.
Ten to two, quite a few in the queue for the bumper cars,
Fit crack on the lake, but her mate's got a flabby arse, let's hit the bar,
But!
Where's the fucking pub?
Where's the fucking ale?
We don't want to queue for the mono-fucking-rail
Where's the fucking crack?
They're middle-aged mums, with big flabby bums.
The black hole queue's past the entrance gate,
I've been with Sweaty Betty, and its not worth the wait.
Wouldn't stand in a queue for all the tea in China,
I'd rather lick the hairs on a dead dog's vagina.