I met this bloke who looked like a ghost
I’ve soon find out that he was not
He was a genuine count from Transylvania
He said: “Marry me. That’s where I’ll take you
To a ruined castle on the top of a cliff
Where the air’s so cold it will freeze your tits”
And there he taught me how to fly
Two lovers together in the purple sky
And we had bats for dinner and bats for tea
Bats for him and bats for me
A big fat rat for Sunday roast
For breakfast we had bats on toast
And when the cooking became a chaw
We just chopped them up and eat them raw
Or opened the window facing south
And let them fly straight in our mouths
Bats for dinner, bats for tea
Bats for dinner, bats for tea
Bats for dinner, bats for tea
Bats for tea
Neighbours didn’t like us much
They seemed to bear some sort of a grudge
Attacked the castle with flaming torches,
Burned the stables and stole the Porshes
Then our local vicar, a miserable tart,
Stabbed a wooden stake through my boyfriend’s heart
I escaped, but I’m alone again
In a one-room flat in Sydenham
And there’s no bats for dinner, no bats for tea,
No bats from the graves or the belfry
It’s peas and cabbage or Sunday roast
And if I’m lucky – beans on toast
And when the cooking becomes a chaw
I’ll just chop them up and eat them raw
And think of how things used to be
When there was just my count and me
There’s no fairy-tale castles in the sky,
But the room’s so cold it would make you cry
And still sometimes at night I fly
Over London’s dark grey sky
And think of him in another world
And hope he’s waiting for his girl
And there united we will be
Together forever for eternity
And there’ll be bats for dinner and bats for tea
Bats for him and bats for me
A big fat rat for Sunday roast
For breakfast we’ll have bats on toast
And when the cooking becomes a chaw
We’ll just chop them up and eat them raw
Or open the window facing south
And let them fly straight in our mouths
Bats for dinner, bats for tea
Bats for dinner, bats for tea
Bats for dinner, bats for tea
Bats for tea
