Big Bottle of Tippex

What I’d like, what I want, what I really, really need
Is a very Big Bottle of Tippex indeed.
Then I’d go through my life and put things to right,
And I’d cover my mistakes with a band of white.
All the girls that I missed because I was too shy,
My overindulgences of whiskey and rye,
Not persevering with the clarinet
Accepting that first cigarette,
Stepping in shite on a third form trip,
Banging my artificial hip,
Worrying if I should go on strike,
Smiling at people I don’t like,
Time spent flicking the remote control,
Schillachi and that bleeding goal,
The nights of suffering brewers’ droop,
All wiped out in one foul swoop.