[Intro] (Lock the doors) (Hide the gin) (She’s off the leash) (Nana’s back) (One, two, one, two) [Verse 1] Eighty-four years but she’s move-move-moving Found a new rhythm that she’s groo-groo-grooving Dentures in a glass but she’s chew-chew-chewing All of the trouble that she’s brew-brew-brewing Stole a mobility scooter from the shop Painted it matte black, never gonna stop Ten cans of lager and a pack of the blues She’s got nothing left that she’s willing to lose Wreckhead Granny in the middle of the road Carrying a heavy and a dan-ger-ous load Eyes like a hawk and a skin like a prune Howling at the sun in the mid-af-ter-noon [Pre-Chorus] (Left, right, left, right) (Watch the wheels spin) (Coughing up smoke) (The reaper’s kin) [Chorus] She’s a wreckhead, wreckhead, geriatric mess Living every day in a state of duress She’s a wreckhead, wreckhead, queen of the estate Turning up the volume till it’s far too late Zimmer frame clicking like a clock-work bomb This isn't the woman that was raised by your mum She’s a wreckhead, wreckhead, terror in the street Knocking every person off their two-flat feet [Verse 2] Went to the bingo with a bri-ck in her bag Smoked forty Benson and a mid-day fagg Called out "House" on a num-ber four-ty Then she started getting really naugh-ty, naugh-ty Flipped over tables and she smashed the machine The meanest old woman that the town’s ever seen She’s got a vendetta and a hip made of chrome Don’t try to take her to the nurs-ing home Security guard tried to grab her by the arm She set off the silent and the loud-voiced alarm Headbutt, knee-strike, down goes the youth Nana’s in the corner spitting out the truth [Bridge] (Rapid staccato flow) One for the pension Two for the strife Three for the boring And a mis-er-able life Four for the doctors Five for the pills Six for the valley And the cold-hearted chills (Faster! Faster!) Move-move-move-move Groove-groove-groove-groove She-is-in-the-pocket And-she’s-in-the-groove [Breakdown] (Mechanical drum loop) (Heavy distorted bass) (Nana’s laughing) (E3 Register focus) Click. Clack. Watch your back. Zimmer frame. Heart attack. [Final Chorus] She’s a wreckhead, wreckhead, geriatric mess Living every day in a state of duress She’s a wreckhead, wreckhead, queen of the estate Turning up the volume till it’s far too late Zimmer frame clicking like a clock-work bomb This isn't the woman that was raised by your mum She’s a wreckhead, wreckhead, terror in the street Knocking every person off their two-flat feet [Outro] (Blue lights flashing) (She’s gone) (Vanished in the fog) (Check the off-licence) (Eighty-four years) (And she’s just getting started) (Out!)
