My bin has a new number,
It wasn’t there before,
It’s down to our new neighbours’,
Who moved in right next door.
My bin don’t want no number,
It’s downcast, and depressed,
It doesn’t really want to feel
A bin like all the rest.
They stuck that number on him,
without checking first you see,
It’s like they’re sort of saying
Don’t you mix your bins with me!
My bin is so brow beaten,
labelled number 2,
And all the world now knows it,
‘Cos it’s stuck on there with glue.