(intro E   B7)
E                       A    B7
Re Our gig at Deptford Abyss
E                                           A    B7
Who the hell does Jeff Dreadnought think he is?
E           A                      E            A
Was he even there? - I ask myself, does he even care? - don't kid yourself
E               F#            B7
Wait 'till our PR men hear of this.
       E                                   A   B7
It's a bad review; we got a bad review, oh ha
       E                                    A    B7
It's a bad review, what are we gonna do? Oh ha
        E                                                               A B7 
I can't walk down the street 'cos other groups I might meet and they'll smirk
           E                              A
Oh, it's a rum old do is a bad review, oh Lord
B7                  E       B7  E  B7
An' my girlfriend's fuming.
E                               A   B7
You hacks don't know where it's at;
    E                                  A      B7
You can't appreciate the master of the Strat
E               A                                 E               A
Not that I'm concerned - 'course you're not, your paper's full of crap
              E                F#           B7
'Course it is, I only read the gig guide anyway.
       E                                  A   B7
It's A bad review, A B-B-B-bad review, oh ha
         E                                         A     B7
We got a bad review, I can't believe it's true, oh Lord
       E                                               A      B7
Well I know what you look like so don't ever come near Stroud
     E                                 A
Page thirty-two, it's a bad review, oh Lord
B7              E      B7  E
My girlfriend's fuming. 
B7                        (instr E B7 E, E B7 E, B7 E)
OK, let's go to chapel.
E     A             E      B7
Oo-oo what's to do? It's a bad review
E     A             E      B7              
Oo-oo what's to do? It's a bad review
    E                           A              
The fearsome hollow boom of the older boys in the deep end
E                         B7
Green shoots of recovery shrivelled up in harsh tomorrows
E                A
Left to pick dry sticks and mumble to myself
E                      B7
A melancholy emblem of parish cruelty.
E     A             E      B7
Oo-oo what's to do? It's a bad review 
E     A             E      B7             
Oo-oo what's to do? It's a bad review 
      E     B7          E    B7         E     B7        E      B7 
Bad review,       bad review,     bad review,     bad review.           
A  B7, E A E