Some folks like a pussy, a budgie or a tit Some take up with a Spaniel pup That fills up the house with sh*t Myself now I keep chickens And I've a favourite one He's Dick my little cockerel And I don't know where he's gone Has anyone seen my cock My big Rhode Island Red He's mostly pink with a little bit of blue And purple on his head He stands straight up in the morning And he gives my wife a shock Has anybody seen, anybody seen Anybody, anybody seen my cock He's a stiff necked little upstart And I've known him all my life He's my pride and pleasure And a torment to my wife Sometimes he's magnificent And sometimes small and thin But he puffs up like a pigeon When you tickle him under his chin Has anyone seen my cock My big Rhode Island Red He's mostly pink with a little bit of blue And purple on his head He stands straight up in the morning And he gives my wife a shock Has anybody seen, anybody seen Anybody, anybody seen my cock He has two enormous wattles hanging down They're the best you'll ever find Madam, you may stroke him if you like If you feel that way inclined Be careful he doesn't spit in your eye though Has anyone seen my cock My big Rhode Island Red He's mostly pink with a little bit of blue And purple on his head He stands straight up in the morning And he gives my wife a shock Has anybody seen, anybody seen Anybody, anybody seen my cock Has anybody seen, anybody seen Anybody, anybody seen his cock

Some folks croon about moon and June Some folks scream and holler But I'm going to sing about a wonderful thing My shirt collar Ariba, ariba, whoo, whoo, Here we go... My shirt collar My shirt collar It won't go stiff No, it won't go stiff It used to stand up and touch my ears But now I've got to be careful in case it disappears When I was younger it was up in a jiff Were it more rigid it would be terrif' But my shirt collar My shirt collar, whoo whoo, oh no It will not go stiff It won't go stiff, no it won't go stiff It's once proud rigidity is only a myth The miserable thing I am holding in my hand which is Limper than the lettuce in yer British Rail sandwiches What was once a certainty is only an 'if' Bang goes the happiness, me joi-de-life 'Cause my shirt collar, whoo whoo, oh no It will not go stiff Well I soaked it, doped it, tied it up and roped it Varnished it but still it ends up bent I've stuffed it into kettles, I've walloped it with metals I've squirted it with aftershave and filled it with cement My shirt collar My shirt collar It won't go stiff No, it won't go stiff I used to dress so it protruded at a rakish angle But now I keep it covered up and all it does is dangle It was up like a rocket on November the fifth But it hasn't happened since and the ladies just sniff My shirt collar My shirt collar, whoo whoo, oh no It will not go stiff

Mah name's Pierre Foofe, Ah come from Montmartre Ah play ze Moulin Rouge, Ah'm a famous French fartre Ah stands on ze stage, Ah whistle and hum Ah make animal noises through ze hole in mah bum Whizza bugle or flute, Ah can play any theme from God Save ze Weasel to Pop Goes ze Queen Ah can trumpet or whisper whizout loosing mah breath mah songs zey have pongs for ze sake of ze deaf A poem Ah'll recite, demonstrating mah art illustrated by noises straight from ze heart Avez-vous ze cabbage, ze baked beans? Merci! Un moment, s'il-vous plait Ah wake up in ze morning and when Ah bend over Is my faithful dog Rover And zen in ze bathroom, each morn' wizout fail Mah puss' cat, Ah've stood on his tail Ze maid brings me breakfast of baked beans and pears And when Ah 'ave dined, Ah walk down ze stairs From mah window Ah see a small duck walking by And above is a cuckoo, who sings in ze sky Ah walk down ze path through ze old creaking gate And 'ere comes a chicken who seems rather irate Farmer Giles with his chainsaw is cutting down trees And zen he sits among ze cabbage and peas His Mary, from ze dairy, she make mah 'eart throb She watching ze bull and ze cow on ze job Ah walk up to her and Ah tip'a mah hat "Madamoiselle", Ah say, "Ah wish zat ah was doing zat" She turns and replies in tones sweet and refined "Well, why don't you then, I'm sure the cow won't mind" Zis iz'a some of your English'a humour, non? Sacre-bleu! Merde! Ah could live in your eyes, Ah say, each one's a bright one She say "You be quite at home there, there's a sty in the right one" At zis gay badinage Ah laugh like a jackass Pass by faithful Rover and kick him in ze knackers Ah what 'appiness life in ze countryside arouses Ah! Oo! Quelle dommage! Excusez-moi - Ah must'a change mah trousers Oh! Frappe un lumiére!

Ivor, Ivor, Ivor, Ivor Ivor, sing you bugger, sing Oh my name is Ivor Biggun And they say I've never been kissed My sex life took one hell of a knock On the day I broke my wrist I much prefer hand shandy to the company of lasses Everybody says that I'll go blind But I'll do it 'til I need glasses Oh whoa my name is Ivor Biggun and I sing about tits and bums (His name is Biggun and he sings of tits and bums) Whoa whoa whoa whoa, you know my name you'd better Get your gums around my plums My name is Ivor Biggun I'm disgusting and obscene I blow my nose without a hankie And my fingernails aren't clean I'm public enema number one I have effluence and style My 'je ne sais quoi' is obvious It sticks out a mile Whoa whoa, my name is Ivor Biggun and I'm dark and dirty as a dungeon (His name is Biggun and he's dirty as a dungeon) Whoa whoa whoa now you know my name you'd better Make a luncheon of my truncheon Well you don't have to be a space invader To suffer from asteroids Don't need to show Mrs. Thatcher my willie For her to look down on the unemployed And you don't have to be a sergeant To stand your privates out in front And you don't have to be a gynecologist To recognise a country squire at the hunt Well my name is Ivor Biggun But some dispute that fact And they suggest I contravene The trade descriptions act But my girl said she's marry me If I had a twelve inch dong I said "I'll cut it down to any size luv If you think that it's too long" Whoa whoa, my name is Ivor Biggun and I got my mojo workin' well (He sings The Wanker's Song and stuff like Eskimo Nell) Now you know my name I'd better Press your button and ring your bell You don't have to squirt your armpit to say aerosols to you You don't have to be a carpenter to bang and hammer and screw Don't piss the wrong way in a hurricane If you don't know how to duck And you shouldn't work in a massage parlour If you can't give a toss or a fuck (sorry Mrs. Whitehouse) Ivor Biggun, Ivor Biggun, Ivor Biggun Ivor Biggun, Ivor Biggun, Ivor Biggun Ivor Biggun, Ivor Biggun, Ivor Biggun Ooh I think I've ruptured m'self I'm Britain's champion wanker Renowned throughout the land Everybody knows my name But nobody wants to shake my hand Whoa whoa, my name is Ivor Biggun and I sing about tits and bums (His name is Biggun and he takes it as it comes) Whoa whoa whoa, now you know my name you'd better Get your gums around my plums

John Thomas Allcock, he lives northeast of Whitstable He's got that certain something that the girls find irresistable He's a fine up-standing fellow and they say, for what it's worth His mother was frightened by a donkey six months before his birth And when the midwife heaved him out the first thing she could seize on It wasn't his arm, it wasn't his leg and I guess that that's the reason Why he's the... Man with the biggest plonker in the world (Dingle, dangle, strap it to your ankle) He keeps it in his trousers tightly curled (Dingle, dangle, strap it to your ankle) It's a yard and a half if it's an inch and it's more when it's unfurled, oh He's the man with the biggest plonker in the world As you can imagine, it was an enormous drawback. Well... part of it was, anyway John Thomas Allcock, at school the kids all gathered round And said "Please tell us what is that behind you dragging on the ground?" He said it was a python, and it had got the mumps He stuffed it in his ear and said "I am a petrol pump" He stuffed it down his wellies and the teacher said "Now, John You'll have to stay behind when all the other kids have gone" A really boring thing about school mistresses is they make you do it again and again until you get it right, and they make you put your hand up John Thomas Allcock, he grew up virile, tall and strong And he became a chimney sweep with a brush attached to his remarkable dong Then he went to China, where dragons can be found And everybody said "'Ere look, there's a chap with one draggin' on the ground" (Hahahaha! Get it, one draggin' on the ground? Oh, please yourself then.) And then he got married and he had five kids and it comes as no surprise He's a lovely wife with a rather strange expression in her eyes And it's not surprising really, 'cause she's married to... The man with the biggest plonker in the world (Dingle, dangle, strap it to your ankle) He keeps it in his trousers tightly curled (Dingle, dangle, strap it to your ankle) It's a yard and a half if it's an inch and it's more when it's unfurled, oh He's the man with the biggest plonker in the world He was a champion pole vaulter - with or without a pole Was he heavily penalized? Oh, indubitably! John Thomas Allcock he died, oh yes he did And because of rigor mortis they couldn't shut the coffin lid And now he's up in heaven and his kids are very proud To see their daddy's dongler dangling through the clouds When it's dark at midnight you can hear the ladies sigh And whistle when the ghost of old John Tom goes shuffling by 'Cos he's...The man with the biggest plonker in the world... Monstrous, I call it. He shouldn't have had a thing like that without a license. I said to my wife, I think he should be bloody well hung. And you know what she said? "He is, my dear, he is..."

I have a dog his name is Rover Oh my goodness! I have a dog his name is Rover Ee by gum! I have a dog his name is Rover When he shits he shits all over Shit all 'round the room, me boys Shit all 'round the room I have a dog his name is Fritz Oh my goodness! I have a sausage dog his name is Fritz Ee by gum! I have a dog his name is Fritz He shits and shits and shits and shits Shit all 'round the room, me boys Shit all 'round the room I have a dog a big Great Dane Oh my goodness! I have a dog a big Great Dane Ee by gum! I have a dog a big Great Dane He wipes his b*m and he pulls the chain Shit all 'round the room, me boys Shit all 'round the room

Oh show me a home where the buffalo roam And I'll show you a house full of dung... For god's sake Ivor, did I spend three years at the Paris Conservetoire to play this sort of rubbish? Don't you know anything else? My brother's in the merchant navy He brings me things from where he's been Letters from France and caps from Holland And once from Denmark a mucky magazine And I remembered mother's advice If I ever looked at photographs that weren't quite nice I'd turn to stone right there Part of me did but I just didn't care And I'll bet you a quid that you've never seen Anything like my brother's magazine I bet you a quid that you've never seen Anything like my brother's magazine 'Ere, is this photograph the right way up? Spotty-arsed fellas and great big women At it like knives on battered settees And two blokes from Tottenham who can tie a knot in 'em And still have donglers to their knees And a picture of utter depravity A dentist filling quite the wrong cavity A midget with a tattooed dong And the words and ukelele chords for an Ivor biggun song A lady you can see isn't really a blonde Posing with a parsnip very biological Another who grins from where she had twins Not pornographic, just gynecological And a lingum and a yoni, two Egyptian women and a shetland pony Appliances and PVC and something that looks a bit like a coconut to me And I'll bet you a quid that you've never seen Anything like my brother's magazine I bet you a quid that you've never seen Anything like my brother's magazine If I ever grow up I'd like to be like A pink pony poser pay for intercourse With me rocks off knocks off without taking socks off A big John Thomas like the milkman's horse Latex genitalia, something filled with batteries that's popular with sailors A picture that leaves no doubt As to whether Linda Lovelace really had her tonsils out And I'll bet you a quid that you've never seen Anything like my brother's magazine I bet you a quid that you've never seen Anything like my brother's magazine 'Ere there's a book in here advertised. It's called "I tried to be a homosexual but I was only half in Ernest" There's a stripper as well, also, with a 73" bust. She doesn't have much of an act. She just crawls onto the stage and tries to stand up. Here's an advert. "They all laughed when I sat down to play then I realised I'd left the bathroom door open. And then there's some obscene records. Who's this Judge Dread then? "I used to kiss you on the lips but now it's all over." "I will love you when you get old. So please get 'old of this." And what's this a photograph of? Oooh It can't be? It couldn't be? It isn't is it?

"Is she really going out with him?" "There she is, let's ask her" "Betty, is it true he's got reproductive organs like a rhionosterus?" "That's quite preposterous! By the way, what are all those seagulls doing in here?" "I don't know. Betty, what's his name?" His name was Stanley He was so strong and manly But left without saying a word But since everybody pooed on him He's got a brand pseudonym And now he's called Richard the Turd He was straining in the throne room On a blunt, tony torpedo He was not privy to the fact the seat was loose Then he fell right down the plumbin' Through the place you put your bum in And flushed with pride he floated down the sluice It was dark down there Through the narrow pipes he wriggled 'Til he came to where the khaki river flows Through a fragrant tide of ooze And a million number twos He swam slowly 'Cause he had to hold his nose "Why didn't he shout for help?" "It would have been impolite to speak with his mouth full" So he's going through the motions in the dark and lumpy pools By the brown and heaving ocean since he fell between two stools He's in the business deep in caverns measureless to man Stan - Stan - Stan Winterbottom it was The man, the man, who fell down the pan He was a gynecologist, in Rotherham From bog forever umber From sea to shining seashore He considered people's doings As they floated by He reviewed the human species As he drifted through their faeces Life's strains he viewed with philosophic eye We are all just turds And the world's a pile of doodie And life is just a journey down the sewer But a man can struggle through And face his Waterloo And a rose smells sweetly When it's growing in manure "And in that one moment everything he'd left behind him passed before his eyes" So he went through the motions and he swam the fetid pools Past the oceans with no deckchairs but an awful lot of stools And he squeezed back up the dungpipe round the bend where Harpic goes And said "Dear friends, I'm back again!" And everybody held their nose! (Hardly surprising, really) "Flippin'eck - here come all those seagulls again" I ran up to Stanley, I wanted to wipe away all memory of his movements down there in the bowels of the earth I told him I'd thought of him every day he'd been (interred) in-turd, but he pushed me away "Darling, what's wrong, are you dysentery-ested in me?" He looked at me, and I'll never forget the words he said "Betty, when I was down there I discovered the meaning of life Don't force me into a marriage of convenience, I've just come out of the closet".

All those lonely blues songs, you might feel that you wrote 'em You might be sad and think that life has kicked you in the scrotum Be brave and wipe that teardrop from your eye there's one more remedy you can try Wanking your blues away Wanking your blues away If you haven't had a promise And you haven't got a sister or a wife And your brother's not keen You can get to the promised land The answer's right there in your hand Try wanking to the rhythm of life It's a source of some amusement that the craft of self-abusement was invented, so it's thought by the Greeks and the Westphalians perfected by Australians developed by the Welsh into a competitive sport Wanking your blues away Wanking your blues away Shirt on the floor One hand and a metronome And lots of boogie-woogie The Cowman sits there on his farm With loads of blisters on his arm Wanking 'til the cows come home It's time to take your trousers down Lock the door and go to town You can wipe away your frown and wank your blues away Don't worry that you'll lose your sight Make the world seem gay and bright WANKERS OF THE WORLD UNITE and wank your blues away Wanking your blues away Wanking your blues away It's a harmless hobby, it's what your right arm's for And not for drinking lager The basic kit for masturbation Is a plonker and a hand and imagination Keep wanking 'til you just can't wank no more But don't forget to close the bathroom door

Hello children, how do you do? I've brought some friends to sing for you Mein singing mice I've brought along To sing ein little mousey song So mein mouses don't be slow Sing along und here we go Can little mousey pull ze pud' Yes we can it does us good Do little mice have tiny dongs Yes they're only one inch long Zat's not much to wave about It's more than you, you daft old c*nt Stick to ze script boys Why do mouseys sing so high 'Cause we're so fucking sore, that's why Is it just 'cause you're so small Yes we all have ... balls Would you like to meet mein cat No fuck off you silly old twat Now zen boys, you'll never be as famous as Punky and Porky if you keep swearing What do mouseys love to eat Spotted dick and shredded wheat In the pantry no-one sees We piss in the jam and crap on the cheese Now zen boys that's quite enough Oh fuck off you dozy old poof I'm beginning to lose mein temper! Up your arse you ... old git We'll fill your larder up with shit We'll fight and fart and do as we please We'll fuck in the bread-bin and steal your cheese Scnitzel I am a silly goose Mein pussycat has just got loose... Go cat go! There is your favourite food... mouseburger Auf wiedersehn children if you please And as for the mouseys, hard cheese

I'm 37, I'm still living with me mum I've no pals now my guinea-pig's dead And my dad needs my room to grow mushrooms So I suppose that it's time I was wed Now you don't sweat much for a fat lass And I hear you've a rich mum and dad And in the dark, with the light right behind you You really don't look quite that bad And that's why I wrote you this meaningful melody OK lads, three chords in the key of A - let's put some spunk into it... I can be the hot-dog and you can be the bun I can be the ramrod and you can be the gun I can be the cistern if you will pull my chain I can be the dyno-rod if you will be the drain I'll even be the daddy and you can be the mum I can be the suppository and you can be the bum But I can't understand (no he can't understand) No I can't understand why women don't like me It's one of life's little mysteries No I can't understand (no he can't understand) No I can't understand why women don't like me Oh cruel fate I can be the christmas fairy you can be the tinsel I can be the athletes foot and you can be the plimsol I can be the landlord's thumb and you can be the drink I can be the plunger and you can be the sink I will be the dentist if you will open wide I can be the vet's rubber glove and you can be the cow's backside But I can't understand (no he can't understand) No I can't understand why women don't like me Dear Anna Raeburn, what am I doing wrong? No I can't understand (no he can't understand) No I can't understand why women don't like me I've got the brylcreem bounce You can be the sandwich I can be the lemon curd You can be the WC and I can be the turd I can be the rupture and you can be the truss You can be the pimple and I can be the puss You can be the vomit bag and I can be the sick You can be the Y-fronts and I can be the ... what's this word? I can't understand (no he can't understand) No I can't understand why women don't like me I've got me own teeth and a motorbike and sidecar No I can't understand (no he can't understand) No I can't understand why women don't like me Me me me... I can be the finger and you can be the pie I can be the porker and you can be the sty I can be the writing if you will be the wall I can do the breaststroke if you will do the crawl You can be the racing car and I can be James Hunt I can be the sailor and you can be the.. What's this word? Mr. Biggun, the word is punt! Are you sure? I can be the stone and you can be the kidney You can be the choirboy and I can be my rather strange uncle Sidney But if your heart should chance resist my subtlety and charms And my suave sophistication fails to bring you to my arms You'd be the wild and lovely girl I'd lost before she'd grown And you will be a memory and I will be... Probably going down the pub. There's a darts match on at The Swan in Fulham Broadway... Or I might go to the pictures and see Clit Eastwood... or 'Danish Dentist On The Job'... Or I might go and stare at the nurses playing tennis... Or I might go and get some Algerian Scotch whiskey from the off-license and get comode-hugging drunk... Or I might go and stick me dong thru somebody's letter-box

Stand by - ethnic bear skanking... Wanna be a bear and live in the wood Eat a whole lot of honey make me feel good I wanna be a bear living wild and free Eating shrubs and berries, scratch my back on a tree I wanna be a bear Whoa yeah, Bo Diddley bear I a grizzly bear I wanna be a bear be wild and rough In a big fur coat I'm gonna strut my stuff When i come home and I feel almost dead I need a whole lot of Goldilock in my bed I wanna be a bear Whoa yeah, Bo Diddley bear I a grizzly bear I wanna be, wanna wanna be, a bear I wanna be living wild, living free I wanna be just a little baby bear and me I strictly bear I are, smarter than the average I strictly bear I are Don't wanna be ferocious wanna do my thing Gonna hibernate go to sleep 'til spring Rock steady teddy live a life of ease Groovin' with the birdies in the sycamore trees Be a bear, Bo Diddley bear I a grizzly bear Wanna... be a bear Don't wanna be no Smokey bear Don't wanna be no Biffo the bear I smarter than the average bear

Part 1 Terrific Teddy Sings The Blues Ladies and Gentlemen... Terrific Teddy sings the blues... Tell it like it is Ted Sing the blues, Ted... Smash it to 'em Ted... go Ted go... I woke up this morning (that makes a change) Yes and I believe I shit the bed (ahh I don't know why we fucking bother...) With The Swampland Serenaders Part 2 Ah Feel So Bad Whooee here we go... You ain't too old if you ain't too ashamed Well I feel so bad, somebody done bulldozed the whorehouse down Well I feel so bad, somebody done bulldozed the whorehouse down They used to call it the tandoori take-away, it sold the hottest stuff in town Well there was thirty guinea Winnie, there was twenty guinea Sue And there was bargain basement Bertha who'd do three for the price of two There was horizontal Harriet who'd give you change from a quid And if you were low 'n' lonesome there was luncheon voucher Sid Well I feel so bad, somebody done bulldozed the... I used to go there Friday evening and stay 'til Sunday night Come first thing Monday morning I surely don't feel right So I go down to the doctor, this is what the doctor say You've got a nasty little blister, son, that will not go away Well I feel so bad, somebody done bulldozed the whorehouse down They used to call it the tandoori take-away, it sold the hottest stuff in town But they never let a po' boy down... With Doncaster Slim and The Cleethorpes Delta Boys

Gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey and Wanka wanka wanka goes the duck I'm a filthy farmer and I don't give a.. fiddle-de-de I've got a lovely set of bullocks and I'm up to me eyes in muck So gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey and Wanka wanka wanka goes the duck Jack my pig, he's ever so big, I feeds him caster oil He burps and he farts and then he starts to fertilise the soil Some folks say he is just like me, I think they must be mad His eyes are smaller and I'm a bit taller and Jack doesn't smell quite so bad Gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey and Wanka wanka wanka goes the duck I'm a filthy farmer and I don't give a.. fiddle-de-de I've got a lovely set of bullocks and I'm up to me eyes in muck So gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey and Wanka wanka wanka goes the duck Parson Grey came 'round one day and he strolled into the dairy Looked all about and pulling on a cow was my little milkmaid Mary "You must be proud" said the parson out loud, "Of wonderful udders like those" "How does she yeild?" I said "Twice on the field And the cow's not bad either, I suppose" Gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey (gobble gobble) Wanka goes the duck (wanka wanka) I'm a filthy farmer and I don't give a fiddler's pluck You should see my smallholding i'm up to me eyes in muck So gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey and Wanka wanka wanka goes the duck I've got a bull called Maurice but I think he's a bit like that So I made a date for the artificial inseminator, the bull and the bowler hat The fellow came down gave squirt all 'round and then he's on his way The cows got the hump 'cause a bicycle pump ain't as good as the old fashioned way 'ere, look at all those heffers in the field over there The vet gave m' sheep an aphrodisiac to make the ewes feel randy It worked like a charm and the sheep went barmy and the poor old ram's gone bandy I said to the missus what a fine thing this is, what can them tablets be She said I don't know dear but come over here 'cause they tasted like cough-drops to me Gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey and Wanka wanka wanka goes the duck I'm a filthy farmer and I don't give a.. fiddle-de-de You should see my smallholding i'm up to me eyes in muck So gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey and Wanka wanka wanka goes the duck Gobble gobble gobble goes the turkey and Wanka wanka wanka goes the duck

My mother likes family reunions Last Wednesday my sister came calling With her husband Keith who's all kneecaps and teeth And little Billy who's simply appalling He's about as much fun as cystitis He's a fouth-mouthed vindictive young skiver But Mum said "Listen you, take the child to the zoo" And young Billy said "Thanks Uncle Ivor" Well three Mars bars later we got to the bus He had four sausage rolls on the train And a cornet or two; then he spewed in the queue for the zoo and was hungry again So I showed him the llamas, the seals and iguanas The ocelot, wombat and stoat With a nose full of finger he seemed reluctant to linger And he weren't interested in 'owt I said "Oh what a drag you are Come and look at the jaguar And the panda, it seems almost human" He said "It's no small surprise, the black rings round its eyes make it look a bit like Gary Numan" Well I remembered the story of Albert Who was ate by a lion it's told So I left little William by the tigers’ pavilion And round to the monkeys I strolled There was one great big monkey who sat by himself I mused is he chimp or gorilla? He basked in the sun as he munched on a bun And was reading the Daily Mirror I looked at the monkey and he looked at me There were nobody there but us two I winked and he winked And I waved and he waved And he looked and he said "I know you" "You're that fella who plays ukulele And follows a wanker's career My friends the baboons know all of your tunes We've got all your records in here" I said "Hang on a minute, here's a cage and you're in it, and you're talking" And the monkey said "Aye" "How on earth can you do it?" He said "Son there's nowt to it, but I don't do it much 'cos’ I'm shy" I said "Eee by heck, does the keeper know that you can talk?" He said "Nay and there’s one thing for sure he's not going to neither 'cos’ he'd just take a breather and leave me to do the guided tour" "But a monkey who talks is fantastic", said I "Let me tell the whole world right away You could be a celebrity .. and meet Russell Harty. You'd be famous" But the monkey said "Nay" "I've seen quite sufficient of that there outside world on a TV the keeper installed And you can stick your urban culture up the oviduct of a vulture 'Cos’ I don't think much to it at all" "Mind you .. I never thought much to the jungle as such Dark and steamy and pissing wet through So one day I thought I've had enough, I’ll write to David Attenborough And I finished up here in the zoo" "I've got six wives, a warm cage, free dinners, the papers I'm happy and safe from the hunters And it really is grand to crap in your hand And fling it through the bars at the punters" "I eat when I’m hungry, I drink when I’m dry Pull my pudding when I feel inclined It's a real gravy train, but I can’t say the same For the world that you buggers designed" "Injustice, corruption, pollution, Max Bygraves Intolerance and capitalist enslavlerment Downing Street’s barmy residents and B-movie presidents And poodle crap all over the pavements" "Jehovah's sodding witnesses banging on doors Jack mopeds that sound like a Stuka And Australians who wander around pissed and chunder On the table when you're trying to play snooker." "Jumped up hi-fi salesmen who call you Sir, when what they mean really is twat Kids who crayon on cars, I can piss through the bars on the whole bloody miserable lot" "The unspeakable horror of a family Christmas Incidents down at the Palais when a 7-foot tall skinhead comes up to you and says "Here, four-eyes, have you been staring at my girlfriend?" You say "No, of course not" He says "So, you prat, you think there is something wrong with her do you?" And you end up with a mouthful of fist "Far away from the rabble, we sit and play scrabble, or cribbage, or Cluedo, or whist We do amateur Gilbert and Sullivan, a philosophical discussion or two I might put up my feet and idly complete the crossword the keeper can't do" Of course during the day, we put on a show for the public, you know wanking and defaecation But when they've all pissed off home, we're left on our own for an evening of fun and recreation" "We do pottery, Kung-Fu, darts and yoga. Charabanc trips on holidays and high days Or we go round in gangs to the orang-utans because it's wife-swapping Wednesdays and Fridays" And then he looked past me and he swivelled his eyes and whispered "Eh up, don’t say 'owt". For coming in view was my little nephew and I went and shook him warmly by the throat "Look at that funny monkey" said William "Weren't the lions hungry?" I replied and gripping his mitt which was covered with... jam I lead the young hooligan outside Now it could have been my imagination because it had been a long afternoon But did I hear a voice say, as we wandered away "Ta'ra lad then, see thee soon" Now all the way back I was thinking. When I got home I'd made up my mind Life's a pain in the dong and I'm sure I don't belong in a world that I never designed So I'm buying a fur suit and a ladder and I'm certain for once and for all I'm leaving behind this world's weary grind and I'm hopping in over the wall So the next time that you pay a visit to your relatives down in the zoo Look around carefully and you'll probably see one or two of them looking at you And you might even find that there's two special monkeys and who knows it happen could be That the one of them reading the Mirror is him and the one reading Penthouse is me

Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty Five Well I went out for a Boogie A week ago last Tuesday I was doing the Wigan Hustle and the Palais Glide I met a girl in pink suspenders And her buz-whams were stupendous Like two bald-headed men sitting side by side She wore a BRA SIZE 45 and she could jump and Jive And when she stopped dancing, bits of her kept wobbling about She said “You Drive Me Crazy Burn Some Rubber On Me Baby” She grabbed my little whistle and she began to shout (Parody of “Hit me with your Rhythm stick”)         Hit me with your rhythm stick! Hit me! Hit Me!         Je t’adore. Ich leibe dich. Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!         Hit me with your rhythm stick!         I’m six feet tall and five feet thick         Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!   Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty Five  I couldn’t do nothing but stand and stare She gave me a hug like a grizzly bear I couldn’t see much I thought I was dead I had boobs upside my head   (Short quote from Ooops Upside My head)         Boobs upside my head         Boobs upside my head   (Parody of “Baggy Trousers” by Madness)         Oh what a front she had         Enough for me, my brother and dad         A chest of drawers no doubt         One with the top drawer half-pulled-out         Oh what a front she’d got         Believe me son she’d got the lot         Right before my eyes         And she was bra size forty five   Er...excuse me, what do I do now? “Man be cool..gotta get down and have a rap.” I beg yer pardon? I think I’ll do a talking bit instead!   She was the big economy size, her buz-whams were gigantic Like two fat little boys wrestling under a blanket The flickering strobes lit up the globes that thrust from her pullover I think her name was June ‘cause she was Bustin’ Out All Over. She said “Can You Feel The Force? D’y’wanna take One Step Beyond?” I said “Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire, there’s a Whole Lot Of Shaking Going On!  She said “Knock On Wood, I’ll Blame It On The Boogie now what do you think about that?” I said “Oooh heck! It Must Be Jelly ‘cause Jam Don’t Shake Like That” Not so much of the Night Fever, more like a belt with a tyre lever She was not at all pendulous, in fact she was tremendulous! Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty-five Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty-five She wore a bra size forty five And when they played “I Will Survive” She went crackers, and her animal desires became much keener She said “John I’m Only Dancing, but I’d rather be romancing” She had me Inside Out And Upside Down in the back of my Cortina* Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick   (Parody of “CARS” by Gary Numan)         And there in my car, the windows all steamed up         I thought I would drown, she let it all hang out in Bras         Size Forty Five         And there in my car, I thought “This Is It!”         An Instant Replay, My foot out the window in Bras         Size Forty Five   (Direct quote from “Swords Of A Thousand Men” by Tenpole Tudor)           Hoorah hoorah hoorah hey over the hills and now I’m on My way!           (I got out my tentpole and chewed ‘er)           Hoorah hoorah hoorah hey over the hills and now I’m on My way!           (Come on, let’s do the Bristol Stomp)   She wore a Bra Size Forty Five I thought I never would revive When I tackled that young lady with the bounciest of blouses But she left me for a geezer Who had much more chance to please ‘er With his own Master Blaster and a pair of Baggy Trousers. Oh what  fun they had! Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty-five Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty-five (NOTE! This is where the “FAMILY VERSION” fades out.

When I was a kid in 1956 My big brother showed me some disgusting tricks Sitting in the bathroom on my own Wanking to the rhythm of me gramophone And I was going 1-2-3-4 change hands 5-6-7-8 change hands 9-10-11-12 change hands All you need is the rhythm and the wrist control And you can do the wanker's rock 'n' roll Well I tried to do the shimmy, I tried to do the twist I tried to do the tango, I nearly broke me wrist The women all point at me and scoff Say "You won't need me 'til your hand drops off" And I'm going 1-2-3-4 change hands 5-6-7-8 change hands 9-10-11-12 change hands All you need is the rhythm and the wrist control And you can do the wanker's rock 'n' roll Give me a 'W' Give me an 'A' Give me an 'N' Give me a 'K' Give me an 'E' Give me a 'R' Stick it all together and what's that spell? I've got Great Balls Of Fire I've got blisters on me palms I've got Willie And The Hand-Jive And muscular arms The Teds call me "Wanker" When I'm walking down the street 'Cause I do the Jerky-Gurky To the Boogie-Woogie beat And I'm going 1-2-3-4 change hands 5-6-7-8 change hands 9-10-11-12 change hands All you need is the rhythm and the wrist control And you can do the wanker's rock 'n' roll When Long Tall Sally met Johnny B. Goode He didn't do nothing but pull his pud' Just the wrist and the fist and you can't go wrong Doing the Hand-Jive all night long And I'm going 1-2-3-4 change hands 5-6-7-8 change hands 9-10-11-12 change hands All you need is the rhythm and the wrist control And you can do the wanker's rock 'n' roll

Some people make a fuss when a thing goes wrong Some people swear and cuss, others sing a song I don't do either that's all na-poo When a thing goes wrong with me This is what I do I lift up my finger and I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come I don't have to linger when I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come When the wife tells me where I ought to be Do I sit there feeling glum? No, I lift up my finger and I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come So if you're in a train full of Manchester United supporters And you're the only one wearing a Queens Park Ranger's scarf Or if you're trapped in the lavs by a fellow with nail varnish and eye-shadow Don't lose your cool, don't be dismayed, just do what I do I lift up my finger and I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come I don't have to linger when I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come When a girl says "Dear, I'm lost around here" Do I sit and suck my thumb No, I lift up my finger and I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come Some people say tut-tut, others say dash-dash Some call for beef or ... others .. and mash If in the hotel waiters are slow Do I thunder what the? who the? why the? how the? no! I lift up my finger and I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come I don't have to linger when I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come When the cats at night are starting to fight Do I sit there meek and mum? No, I lift up my finger and I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come I lift up my finger and I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come I don't have to linger when I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come When the wife tells me where I ought to be Do I sit there feeling glum? No, I lift up my finger and I say tweet-tweet hush-hush, now-now, come-come

Well if you've got something wrong With the end of your dong And a pain in your old chap Send for, send for, send for Dr. Clap If you're feeling grotty And your dongler's spotty That's no great mishap Send for, send for, send for Dr. Clap 'Cause he's the man who will make you good as new He's the man who will cure you of your ills He's the man who will paint your privates blue With his great big hypodermic and his great big pills If you've got a throb in the end of your knob And it dangles like a strap Send for, send for, send for Dr. Clap And ladies too, he'll see to you He won't make you blush Come along and lie down on his couch Point your path in his direction And wait for his injection You'll only feel a little prick and you won't say "Ouch!" (And it's on the National Health) If you've got a failure in your g*nitalia Don't get in a flap Send for, send for, send for Dr. Clap If you've got a pain or a varicose vein Where it didn't ought to be Send for, send for, send for Clap M.D. 'Cause he's the man who will make you good as new He's the man who will cure you of your ills He's the man who will paint your privates blue With his great big hypodermic and his great big pills Well if you've got something wrong with the end of your dong And a pain in your old chap Send for, send for, send for Dr. Clap You've gotta... Send for, send for, send for Dr. Clap

Well there's a brand new dance Everybody's trying to do It's better than the pogo The shimmy or the boogaloo You can do it by yourself But it's much more fun with two So come on everybody Let's go nuts and screw And this is just what you do You've got to... Hide the sausage Come on and hide the sausage It's time to hide the sausage tonight You've got to sink the winkle It's really very simple To straighten out your wrinkle tonight Come on let's play mums and dads The moon is shining bright Come on everybody and hide the sausage tonight Get it right out of sight Well a little chippolata That points down to your toes Is as good as a big Frankfurter That reaches up to your nose Well if it's a Wiener Schnitzel (Mein Gott) Or a hot dog stuffed in a bun Or a big black pudding Come and do it everyone You can join in the fun When you... Hide the sausage Come on and hide the sausage It's time to hide the sausage tonight You've got to sink the winkle It's really very simple To straighten out your wrinkle tonight Come on let's play mums and dads The moon is shining bright Come on everybody and hide the sausage tonight Get it right out of sight It's a dance you can do on the sofa It's a dance you can do in the park You can even do it in Piccadilly Circus If you're quick and you do it when it's dark You can do it backwards, frontwards and sideways Provided that you're over sixteen (Oh no you don't!) You can even do it standing up, I've seen it in a magazine But you've got to be keen When you... Hide the sausage Come on and hide the sausage It's time to hide the sausage tonight You've got to sink the winkle It's really very simple To straighten out your wrinkle tonight Come on let's play mums and dads The moon is shining bright Come on everybody and hide the sausage tonight Get it right out of sight Well there's a brand new dance Everybody's trying to do It's better than the pogo The shimmy or the boogaloo You can do it by yourself if you're a wanker But it's much more fun with two So come on everybody Let's go nuts and screw And this is just what you do You've got to... Hide the sausage Come on and hide the sausage It's time to hide the sausage tonight You've got to sink the winkle It's really very simple To straighten out your wrinkle tonight Come on let's play mums and dads The moon is shining bright Come on everybody and hide the sausage tonight Get it right out of sight Hide the sausage, come on and hide the sausage Hide the sausage, come on and hide the sausage Let's all spear the bearded clam C'mon let's all sink the .... dagger Ooh it's wonderful to hide the sausage C'mon everybody it's time to hide the sausage

Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty Five Well I went out for a Boogie A week ago last Tuesday I was doing the Wigan Hustle and the Palais Glide I met a girl in pink suspenders And her buz-whams were stupendous Like two bald-headed men sitting side by side She wore a BRA SIZE 45 and she could jump and Jive And when she stopped dancing, bits of her kept wobbling about She said “You Drive Me Crazy Burn Some Rubber On Me Baby” She grabbed my little whistle and she began to shout (Parody of “Hit me with your Rhythm stick”)         Hit me with your rhythm stick! Hit me! Hit Me!         Je t’adore. Ich leibe dich. Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!         Hit me with your rhythm stick!         I’m six feet tall and five feet thick         Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!   Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty Five  I couldn’t do nothing but stand and stare She gave me a hug like a grizzly bear I couldn’t see much I thought I was dead I had boobs upside my head   (Short quote from Ooops Upside My head)         Boobs upside my head         Boobs upside my head   (Parody of “Baggy Trousers” by Madness)         Oh what a front she had         Enough for me, my brother and dad         A chest of drawers no doubt         One with the top drawer half-pulled-out         Oh what a front she’d got         Believe me son she’d got the lot         Right before my eyes         And she was bra size forty five   Er...excuse me, what do I do now? “Man be cool..gotta get down and have a rap.” I beg yer pardon? I think I’ll do a talking bit instead!   She was the big economy size, her buz-whams were gigantic Like two fat little boys wrestling under a blanket The flickering strobes lit up the globes that thrust from her pullover I think her name was June ‘cause she was Bustin’ Out All Over. She said “Can You Feel The Force? D’y’wanna take One Step Beyond?” I said “Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire, there’s a Whole Lot Of Shaking Going On!  She said “Knock On Wood, I’ll Blame It On The Boogie now what do you think about that?” I said “Oooh heck! It Must Be Jelly ‘cause Jam Don’t Shake Like That” Not so much of the Night Fever, more like a belt with a tyre lever She was not at all pendulous, in fact she was tremendulous! Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty-five Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty-five She wore a bra size forty five And when they played “I Will Survive” She went crackers, and her animal desires became much keener She said “John I’m Only Dancing, but I’d rather be romancing” She had me Inside Out And Upside Down in the back of my Cortina* Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick   (Parody of “CARS” by Gary Numan)         And there in my car, the windows all steamed up         I thought I would drown, she let it all hang out in Bras         Size Forty Five         And there in my car, I thought “This Is It!”         An Instant Replay, My foot out the window in Bras         Size Forty Five   (Direct quote from “Swords Of A Thousand Men” by Tenpole Tudor)           Hoorah hoorah hoorah hey over the hills and now I’m on My way!           (I got out my tentpole and chewed ‘er)           Hoorah hoorah hoorah hey over the hills and now I’m on My way!           (Come on, let’s do the Bristol Stomp)   She wore a Bra Size Forty Five I thought I never would revive When I tackled that young lady with the bounciest of blouses But she left me for a geezer Who had much more chance to please ‘er With his own Master Blaster and a pair of Baggy Trousers. Oh what  fun they had! Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty-five Bra Size Forty Five Bra Size Forty-five (NOTE! This is where the “FAMILY VERSION” fades out. Extended “DIRTY GERTIE VERSION” continues as follows:-) And that’s why, And that’s why, And that’s why, and that’s why (“The Winker’s Song”)         I’m a Wanker, I’m a Wanker         And it does me good like it bloody well should         I’m a Wanker, I’m a Wanker         And I’m always pulling my pud         I’m a Wanker, I’m a Wanker         And it does me good like it bloody well should         I’m a Wanker, I’m a Wanker         And I’m always pulling my pud'   Thanks for the mammary, I think I’ve got it sussed You’ve seen one, you’ve seen ‘em both. I’m gonna go for bust. Don’t they make a lovely pair? They look like a couple of Himalayas. Double top, boogie on down, Bristol is my favourite town Everybody understands, arthritis in both hands She’s a disco bumper, she’s got a lumpy jumper Cross your heart and hope to die, please don’t poke me in the eye I know a girl from Potter’s Bar got eaten by her living bra     I said “Baby, oh baby. Surround me. Drown me. Engulf me! Chew me up and spit me out. Let me shipwreck against those white cliffs of Dover.  Get Back Leroy! Get Back Leroy! I wanna be Mr In-Between. Oooh wah! She was a Bra Size Forty Five. Have you ever seen anything like that? Come on let’s do The Bristol Stomp. Ooh!  Hrbbbllerrllrl! Y’know when you see things like that, you just wanna walk up to’em, and stick your head between ‘em and go hbrbrbrbbrbrlrlblblblb. Whoo! Bra Size Forty Five! What a stupendous lady! You don’t get many of those to the pound! Oooh! Kick ‘em over your shoulders! Double top, boogie on down, Bristol is my favourite town! Great Balls Of Fire! There’s a Whole Lot Of Shaking Going On! It Must Be Jelly ‘Cos Jam Don’t Shake Like That! Ooh! Look! There’s a lady police officer! Can You Feel The Force? (Fade)   *note for American Biggun Fans. A Cortina was a particularly down-market large British car