They come out of the woodwork, every time that we're around,
When we play some crumbling ruin, they help us to bring it down,
They're the ones with their hands up, the ones that never let us go,
They'd rather sell their mothers, than miss the gig in Glasgow.
They'll be there Shane, Mick and Flash out there somewhere,
They'll be there Shane, Mick and Flash out there somewhere, where are the Filth Hounds.
They do all the hard work for us, all we do is stand up here,
They know all the words and every chorus, shout them out loud clear,
Out there somewhere, are some people we'll soon get to know,
Some more people who'll sell their mothers, than miss the gig in Glasgow.
They'll be there Shane, Mick and Flash out there somewhere,
They'll be there Shane, Mick and Flash out there somewhere, where are the Filth Hounds,
Where are the Filth Hounds, Where are the Filth Hounds...
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