Mr Osbourne, what goes on in your head?
Mr Osbourne, and how come you ain't dead?
For unless I am very mistaken
Of good sense, you're bereft
With all of the drugs you have taken
Are there any brain cells left?

Mr Charming, I saw you on TV
Mr Disarming, and your sweet family
All of your incessant swearing
Must be the worst I've heard
I found it a little bit wearing
Could you please try a new swear word

Mr Osbourne, though your language is coarse
Oh, Mr Osbourne, you're shambolic, of course
You sing songs of paranoid madness
And of selling your soul
But what kind of Prince of Darkness
Can't use a remote control

Not politic'ly correct
Walking round like you're wrecked
Walking round, walking round like you're wrecked