Ivor Biggun is my name Wanking is my claim to fame And if the people don't complain I'll keep on wanking just the same

My mother said that I never should Play with the naughty, rude girls in the wood Their giggling talk I could never understand And that's why I fell in love with my right hand And that's why... 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 was twenty-five years old before I was kissed And then I found that I preferred a swift one off the wrist It's cheap and convenient, you can't catch VD It's available at any time and it's absolutely free And that's why... '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' Oh Mrs. Palm and your five lovely daughters Thank you for having me and being oh so kind I've got pains in my arms and my dong is growing shorter My knees have turned to water and I think I'm going blind I've wanked over Italy, I've wanked over Spain I've wanked in an omnibus, I've even had a wank in a train I've used a badger and a melon and a cat An inflatable Linda Lovelace and a Davy Crockett hat And that's why... 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' Oh, Mrs Palm and your five lovely daughters Thank you for having me and being oh so kind I've got pains in my arms and my dong is getting shorter My knees have turned to water and I think I'm going blind He's a wanker, he's a wanker And it does him good like it bloody well should He's a wanker, he's a wanker And he's always pulling his pud'

Some people sing sad songs About mother and home Some sing about winking Women, I'd leave them alone Some sing about Blue Suede Shoes and A romance that went wrong But I pick up my ukulele and Sing a mucky song I pluck-pluck-pluck my ukulele and Serenade the folks so gaily All around the place you see The smiles smiles smiles I pluck for m' dinner And pluck for m' supper I'm such a happy little plucker Singing songs about tits and bums And piles piles piles My ukulele well it won't bring me wealth If I play it with the band Or play with m' self It's a very nice size And I can't keep my hand off it for long So I pick up my ukulele and Sing a mucky song I pluck-pluck-pluck my ukulele and Serenade the folks so gaily Singing something vulgar To my chums chums chums I pluck for m' dinner And pluck for m' supper 'Eee I'm such a happy little plucker Singing songs about nudist camps and Honeymoon couples and bums A greengrocer's daughter took a Fancy to me She let me hold her aubergines Sat on the settee She said I could do anything She wouldn't think it wrong So I pulled out my ukulele and Sang a mucky song So if you got a gum-boil or A pain in yer bum And your wife's run off With the dustbin man now Doncha feel glum Don't go around like a misery guts With a face that's three feet long Grab yourself a ukulele and Sing a mucky song And pluck-pluck-pluck your ukulele And serenade the folks so gaily Singing something vulgar to Your chums chums chums If you sit there And play with yourself You'll either go blind Or ruin your health But you'll be the happiest plucker that strums Singing songs about nudist camps and Honeymoon couples and bums

At the appliance shop I bought a filthy book Locked in the lav I had a bloody good look There was a naked nude lady and a man dressed the same Doing something very rude with a funny foreign name I think it was called 'Ferrétillio' Which is Spanish for "blowing the bugle" I went 'round to my girlfriend's house but she said "Ooh That's not very nice and I don't want to know" So I tactfully said "Forget that it's a cock Pretend your at the seaside, and it's a stick of rock" She said "No! No! No!, no that's flat I could never never do a filthy thing like that" She said "No! No! No!, no that's flat I could never never do a filthy thing like that" She said it was called 'Ferreterloranio' And was named after an Italian racing driver Well I filled her up with Whisky and I filled her up with gin But she still wouldn't do it 'cause she said it was a sin I even had a bath but the answer was the same She wouldn't do the thing with the funny foreign name It was called something like 'Ferreterlerulio' I said it would protect her from tonsillitis But she wouldn't swallow that She said "No! No! No!, no that's flat I could never never do a filthy thing like that" She said "No! No! No!, no that's flat I could never never do a filthy thing like that" Next day a man in a hat came knocking at the door He said "You've won the pools, half a million or more" With the cheque in m' pocket to my girlfriend's house I ran To see if she was still a vegetarian I said did she remember what a silly girl she'd been About the sword-swallowing in that funny magazine I said would she refuse me and treat me with disdain Regarding the activity with the funny foreign name She said "No! No! No!, no that's flat I could never refuse to do a thing like that She said "No! No! No!, no that's flat I could never refuse to do a thing like that... Mr. Fellatio, the ice-cream man Hear him jingle jangle in t' ice-cream van Mr. Fellatio, all the children say hello To Mr. Fellatio, the ice-cream man

Hello Hello my baby, hello my honey Hello my ragtime gal Send me a kiss by wire Baby my heart’s on fire If you refuse me Honey, you’ll lose me Then you’ll be left alone Oh baby, telephone And tell me I’m your own You call me on the telephone You tell me that you’re all alone I know that you are lying through your teeth You dirty rascal How could you expect me To believe the lies you hand me You’ve been out with that girl again Now do you understand me You broke my heart and made me cry With every phoney alibi When I could see the lipstick on your shirt You dirty polecat Telephone and tell me I’m your own Hello Hello my baby, hello my honey Hello my ragtime gal Send me a kiss by wire Baby my heart’s on fire If you refuse me Honey, you’ll lose me Then you’ll be left alone Oh baby, telephone And tell me I’m your own I’m sorry that I made you blue It was a beastly thing to do I shouldn’t have upset you like I did With Lil’ the barmaid If you take me back again I’ll never, ever wander ‘Cause when I did I found that absence Made the heart grow fonder So cross my heart and hope to die I’ll never tell another lie I’ll mend your broken heart As good as new My little cough-drop Telephone and tell me I’m your own Hello Hello my baby, hello my honey Hello my ragtime gal Send me a kiss by wire Baby my heart’s on fire If you refuse me Honey, you’ll lose me Then you’ll be left alone Oh baby, telephone And tell me I’m your own Hello, hello, hello Hello, hello, hello Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye Goodbye…

I wish I was a cat Sitting on a rug Pretty girls would come and pick me up And give me a great big hug They'd tickle my ears and stroke me And pat me on the head And all those wonderful things I'd see Sleeping at the bottom of the bed Well I wish I was Well I wish I could be Well I wish I was anyone Somebody else, not me Ya la la la la la da I wish I was a mirror On that mormon lady's wall All those mucky things I've only read about in mucky books I would see them all She'd walk around in a negligée And a flimsy little nightie And when she took that nightie off Oh gosh, good lord almighty Well I wish I was Well I wish I could be Well I wish I was anyone Somebody else, not me Ya la la la la la da I wish I was a brassiere I'd spend my lifetime thrust Right up a ladies' jumper Wrapped 'round a ladies' bust I would be a hold-up man Just like Butch Cassidy An over the shoulder, boulder holder Brassiere's life for me Well I wish I was Well I wish I could be Well I wish I was anyone Somebody else, not me Ya la la la la la da I wish I was the seat upon A big fat ladies' bike... "Hold it, this is the engineer. I'm not going to record anymore of this stuff - It's filthy!!"

I'm shy, I'm shy, I can't even look you in the eye I go all red and I hide my head 'Cause I'm shy, I'm shy I wish I was mustard with ladies Like all of my chums But I just stare at the bus shelter walls And twiddle my thumbs And when I open my big stupid gob The right word never comes And I hope you don't mind That I took such a time Just to get it in rhyme He's shy, He's shy, He can't even look you in the eye He goes all red and he hides his head 'Cause he's shy, he's shy If I had the nerve I'd approach girls in public houses And find out what's hidden in their hearts And concealed in their blouses Wish I could get out what's stuck in my throat And my brain and my trousers And I hope you don't mind That it took such a time Just to get it in rhyme He's shy, He's shy, He can't even look you in the eye He goes all red and he hides his head 'Cause he's shy, he's shy And so if you think I don't like you You see that you're wrong It's just that what's so hard in words Is so easy in a song And I've been looking for someone like you For my whole life long And I hope you don't mind That it took such a time Just to get it to rhyme He's shy, He's shy, He can't even look you in the eye He goes all red and he hides his head 'Cause he's shy, he's shy

Ho ho, you can't catch me Writing on the whitewash in the lavatory Whipping out m' pencil when the twilight falls I'm the man who scrawls "balls" on the walls When it's dark I take a stroll With m' little bit of chalk and m' aerosol Down in the subway, hiding from the light Scribbling away in the middle of the night "Queens Park Rangers", "Elvis is alive" "Dread in-a Babylon", "Gerald loves Clive" Ho ho, you can't catch me Writing in the whitewash in the lavatory 'Round the bus shelters and the entrance halls I'm the man who scrawls "balls" on the walls I'm an escalator desecrater rattling down the tubes On the underwear adverts pencilling pubes Underneath the arches with m' crayon in m' hand Drawing something I don't understand I've just written something obscene In paint in the gents on a french letter machine Ho ho, you can't catch me Writing on the whitewash in the lavatory Whipping out m' pencil when the twilight falls I'm the man who scrawls "balls" on the walls But I've never seen a real live lady in the nude Never played 'hide the sausage', never done something rude But I can imagine it just as well And it doesn't really matter if I can't spell I'll just write about it all over the lav And people who read it might think that I have (Done it with a real lady, that is) Ho ho, you can't catch me Writing on the whitewash in the lavatory Whipping out m' pencil when the twilight falls I'm the man who scrawls "balls" on the walls

My mother had the vicar and the vicar's wife to tea They cleared the room, they blamed it on the dog But it was me... I've farted, I've farted I've made a trouser cough I've whistled in me Y-fronts I've just peeled one off I've blown my bowel bugle I've been eating peas I've broken wind I've dropped my guts Open the window please I've been eating cabbages, prunes and pears and beans Drinking Dandelion & Burdock and you know what that means Polluting the environment, my friends leave me alone The front of me sings tenor and the rest sings baritone I've farted, I've farted I've made a trouser cough I've whistled in me Y-fronts I've just peeled one off I've blown my bowel bugle I've been eating peas I've broken wind I've dropped my guts Open the window please Bubbles in the bath! Real rip snorters! Up on one cheek and hope it don't make a noise Window rattlers! Cushion creepers! Don't shake your leg and keep it in your corduroys A gentleman tells before it smells, he waves his jacket 'til it's gone But I'm the kind of sneaky bugger who lets off and doesn't let on I let them go in lifts, in queues, in phone-boxes and trains And when they stink the people blink and blame it on the drains I've farted, I've farted I've made a trouser cough I've whistled in me Y-fronts I've just peeled one off I've blown my bowel bugle I've been eating peas I've broken wind I've dropped my guts Open the window please "I say, have you farted?" "Of course I have - d'you think I always smell like this?"

Stop muckin' about and gather around I'll sing about the fruit makes world go 'round And in the garden of Eden, Eve started the fall But the fruit that she fancied weren't an apple at all It was Adam's cucumber (sing the song) 'Ee a great cucumber (two feet long) A massive cucumber (big and strong) Fig-leaf cucumber (come and do the cucumber number) In a cucumber frame one cucumber grows And it stretches from m' knees up to my nose It'll fill up your belly make you feel alright You can gobble the fruit each and every night Delicious cucumber (in the garden) 'Ee a monstrous cucumber (beg your pardon) Nice firm cucumber (such a hard 'un) Enormous cucumber (come and do the cucumber number) Now down by the Humber The wife of a plumber She did the rhumba On my cucumber She went and got her neighbours And a sister or two And the district nurse and they all said "Ooh! look at that cucumber" (what a size) What a fat cucumber (satisfies) Romantic cucumber (should win a prize) Gigantic cucumber (come and do the cucumber number) My fruity friend amused them so So I got m' cap and jacket getting ready to go I said "Did you like my big cucumber?" They all said "Ooh, make your cucumber do one more number" Trusty cucumber (show them how) Lusty cucumber (I did and how) 'Ee lovely cucumber (goodbye now) Good gracious cucumber (goodbye now) Champion cucumber (goodbye now) Natty dread cucumber (goodbye now) Cucumber in-a Babylon (goodbye now) Oh what a lovely cucumber (goodbye now) What a beautiful cucumber (goodbye now) What a smashing cucumber (goodbye now)

"Daddy - who's that funny man over there With all those musical instruments?" "Why! That's Ivor Biggun the famous one man band" "What's a one man band, daddy?" "He's one man and he's banned by television and radio..." "Young whipper-snapper!" Well it seems that ever since I was born Somebody said to me My Great Grandad John Was just the kind of man that I ought to be He built a great big factory And when he passed away They put his statue in the park And its still there today And the birds make a terrible mess of my Great Grandad John The doggies leave their calling cards On the stone he stands upon The kids throw sticks & bricks at him They try to pull him down My Great Grandad John the hero of the town My Great Grandad John made fifty thousand pounds But now the money has all gone And his house has fallen down No one cares about the rich man Made of brass and stone And in the park Out in the dark Great Grandad stands alone And the birds go (twttttttt) on my Great Grandad John The doggies leave their calling cards On the stone he stands upon The kids throw sticks & bricks at him They try to pull him down My Great Grandad John the hero of the town Twttttttt "Argh! Well at least it wasn't a Golden Eagle!" Sometimes I think I hear his voice It sounds so sad and old... "Up on this pedestal's no fun It's lonely and it's bloody cold So just you do what you want to son Lead the life you choose And don't make fifty thousand pounds And end up in my shoes" "Or the birds will (Twttttttt) on you my great grandson The doggies leave their calling cards On the stone you stand upon The kids throw sticks & bricks at you They'll try to pull you down Like Great Grandad John the hero of the town" "I say you down there - how much do you earn per street?" "Er... Er... About 50 pence a street guv'ner..." "Well here's three quid... Why don’’t you go and play six streets away" "It's tough being a superstar..."

On London Transport I used to do my shopping Stock-well up down at the Bank and finish up on Wapping station Tooting my horn, 'n' kids I Turn-ham Green If they played on the edge where they'd been seen I was working on the railway Not as a sleeper as some folk say I was working on the railway Mind the doors, you'll be okay I met a girl call Stepney Green, she really was quite sweet She used to give me New Cross buns, oh what a Bakers-treet I got down on my Neas-den said could she give me a kiss She said go and ask if Barbi-can, I can't Stan-more of this I was working on the railway (subtle stuff) Not as a sleeper as some folk say ('ear listen) I was working on the railway Mind the doors, you'll be okay I met a girl called Valerie the Angel of my heart I tried to get her Plaistow but the Ald-wych was too smart I said O-Val I'm not a Rich-mond, Golders Green for all I know She left me by the Waterloo what a loovely way to go I was working on the railway (flipping 'eck) Not as a sleeper as some folk say I was working on the railway Mind the doors, you'll be okay My girl from Ealing Common she ran off with High Street Ken But now she's seen that Kens-al Green she's back with me again I knew I'd Picc-a-dilly if I worked upon the rail I'm going to wed Victoria her mother's Maida Vale I was working on the railway ('ear listen) Not as a sleeper as some folk say (it's good isn't it) I was working on the railway Mind the doors, you'll be okay Mind the doors, you'll be okay

"That's my brother over there standing up, stuffing ice cubes down the back of his trousers and do you want to know why? Well actually, between you and me..." My brother's got piles He never ever smiles You'd be glum If you had his bum My brother's got piles We warned him, we told him We said don't sit on stone walls Avoid wet grass, but now his arse Looks like it's grown another pair of... Well I mean he's moaning he's groaning He's doubled up with pain But the girls say aaah They think he's a star Because he walks just like John Wayne ('Ere listen) My brother's got piles He never ever smiles (He's quite disconsolate) You'd be glum If you had his bum My brother's got piles He bought some suppositories but no bloody good they'd done A waste of time spent swallowing them He might as well have stuffed them up his bum My brother's got piles He never ever smiles You'd be glum If you had his bum My brother's got piles All the lotions and the potions Upon the grapes of wrath Some joker said a poker with a red-hot end might burn them off His botty feels grotty And standing up you'll find him He can't sit down but he shouldn't frown Because his troubles are all behind him (Eee by gum) My brother's got piles He never ever smiles You'd be glum If you had his bum My brother's got piles (Tie a yellow ribbon to the old suppository) My brother has got haemorrhoids, we laugh, it is unkind The kids all call him cho-cho train 'cause he has a tender behind

I dreamed I was on an island In the South Pacific sea With ten thousand seagulls, ten million coconuts Twelve nymphomaniacs and me I've got eight gramophone records I've fixed myself up nice A million miles from a Monday morning In a wanker's paradise A knotted hanky on my head I sat and took my ease With a sausage roll and a one-handed magazine Under the jam-butty trees When a lifeboat full of schoolgirls Came serenely floating by They said with a grin "May we join you in Your wanker's paradise?" I led them dancing from the sea By the waters we sat down With a brass-band softly on the breeze By a lake of Newcastle Brown It was the clattering clock that woke me And from my dream I rose But in my hand was a coconut And sand was between my toes Oh, the next time I dream of Shangri-La You won't have to ask me twice Next time I go I'm stopping In a wanker's paradise I'm going to hang around like a fart in a Volkswagen In a wanker's paradise I'm gonna hang on in like Gunga Din In a wanker's paradise

"'The Charabanc Trip' by Ivor Biggun accompanied by Robin Langridge, aged 14, at the piano forte. Music maestro please!" On the map of North Notts you'll find Worksop Where I lived when I was a lad In a house with me Mam, two sisters and Gran One brother, a budgie, and Dad At the end of our street was a boozer black as stout, uninviting and glum A den of depravity, it stank like a lavatory Where me Dad went to hide from me Mum At the end of the bar in a bottle Every week half a dollar he'd slip For the annual treat when the kids in the street Went to coast on a charabanc trip We'd set off in morning from Worksop En route for Sutton-on-Sea With the Holiday Club, them as paid up their sub Half the street and my brother and me There was old Mrs. Brough from the tripe shop Big soft Doris, her two little lasses And her sister Helen with a bust like two melons And a face like an arse'ole with glasses There was Perfumed Gordon the hairdresser And nobody did make it clear Why a rude boy called Taylor Cried out "Hello Sailor" And something about ginger beer There was Desperate Derek, his brother Big Eric And Basher and Masher and Butch And Lil' who was willing for only a shilling Which was still about ten pence too much There was Mavis who wouldn't 'Cause her mum said she shouldn't There was Neville who wished that he could And then there was Heather who said that she'd never But looked like she probably would! Well my Dad took a crate of ale with him Intending to travel in style Charabanc did 25 miles to the gallon My Dad did half pint to the mile Rain were chucking it down leaving Worksop Through North Notts it did not desist There were cows with bronchitis and wet sheep to invite us When Lincolnshire loomed up through t' mist Rain slacked off soon to a medium monsoon And the day didn't look such a black 'un When the driver called Reg pulled up by a hedge And we all made a dash for the bracken Dad rushed to a tree and said "excuse me" And right there one penny he spent it He said, "Ain't it queer, one thing about beer You don't really buy it, you rent it" Well this idyllic scene mid the nettles and steam Was soon torn by my brother's plaintive cries The poor little nipper caught his dong in his zipper He was dancing with tears in his eyes Then back on t' coach off to Sutton We got there, 'ee weather were grand And we gazed on the sea, cold, the colour of tea And smelt candyfloss, dodgems and sand There were shops full of rock There were hats with rude slogans There was music and cries of hilarity There were games on the sands, there were jellied-eel stands And souvenir shops packed with vulgarity My brother ran down to the ocean His intention the water to reach For his foot he just thrust in something disgusting A donkey had left on the beach The sea was as cold as a polar bear's dick We watched Punch kill the crocodile dead And after throwing some sand at Salvation Army band We went off to the funfair instead There was a ride called The Comet made you scream, faint and vomit Half deafening you hung upside down And the last bit, a spinner, brought up rest of yer dinner Not bad, you know, for just half a crown There were post cards with fat women, nudists and Scotsmen Honeymooners and dirty week-enders And in a machine what the butler had seen Dimly flickered about in suspenders We ate cockles and whelks and big winkles Soggy chips, toffee apples like glue The hot dogs were funny ’uns like something rude wrapped in onions But we ate them, and pease pudding too Then we went on to dodgems and waltzer And big dipper that rises and falls It was on this machine that my brother turned green And his eyes stood out like bulldog's balls The poor little chap he was sick in his cap It was his best 'un, he started to cry So not wishing to spoil it we swilled it in toilet And he wore it until it was dry The driver found us and said "Back to the bus" Through the dark we ran back the whole way Candyfloss in our hair, but we didn't care Eee we'd had such a wonderful day And with charabanc firing on several cylinders We set off for Worksop and home Rattling down the highway singing songs of Max Bygraves Accompanied on paper and comb In the dim orange glow of the coachlight, so low Courting couples were billing and cooing Hoping, perhaps, that the coats in their laps Would conceal the rude things they were doing We pulled up in our street about half past eleven There was Mam, there was Granny & all They gazed in admiration at the plaster alsatian We'd won for 'em at coconut stall I drank up my Cocoa, I ate up my sandwich And soon up in bed I was curled I was dreaming a dream I was leading the team On first charabanc trip around world Eee those things that I did when I was a kid Although they were simple and small Now I've grown up I find I look back in my mind I'm sure they were best times of all 'Cause I've been to Majorca, and by that's a corker I've been to Pompeii and Herico-alanium The French Riviera, where the ladies are barer I've even paddled in Meditter-anium I've drunk various vinos in Torremolinos But of all these I'll tell you for free There's none can compete with that charabanc treat With me brother to Sutton-on-Sea

My mother said that I never should Play with the naughty, rude girls in the wood Their giggling talk I could never understand And that’s why I fell in love with my right hand And that’s why... 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 was twenty-five years old before I was kissed And then I found that I preferred a swift one off the wrist It’s cheap and convenient, you can’t catch VD It’s available at any time and it’s absolutely free CHORUS Oh Mrs. Palm and your five lovely daughters Thank you for having me and being oh so kind I’ve got pains in my arms and my dong is growing shorter My knees have turned to water and I think I’m going blind I’ve wanked over Italy, I’ve wanked over Spain I’ve wanked in an omnibus, I’ve even had a wank in a train I’ve used a badger and a melon and a cat An inflatable Linda Lovelace and a Davy Crockett hat CHORUS Oh, Mrs Palm and your five lovely daughters Thank you for having me and being oh so kind I’ve got pains in my arms and my dong is getting shorter My knees have turned to water and I think I’m going blind He’s a wanker, he’s a wanker And it does him good like it bloody well should He’s a wanker, he’s a wanker And he’s always pulling his pud’

one two three four Change hands! five six seven eight Change hands! nine ten eleven twelve Change hands! When I was a kid in 1956 My big brother showed m' some disgusting tricks Sitting in the bathroom on my own W*nking to the rhythm of m' 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 the Willie And The Hand-Jive And muscular arms The Teds call me "Wanker" When I'm walking down the street 'Cause I walk 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

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 It's a dance you can do on the sofa It's a dance you can do in the park You can do it round the back of Sainsbury's 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 (I am... next birthday) 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 Hide that Sausage.  Get it out of sight. Hide it to the left and hide it to the right. Hide it in the corner that mother nature planned, And if you cannot hide it, then hold it in your hand. Hide it somewhere safe and warm where it cannot be found, Or stick it out the winder and wave it all around. And don’t funk till you’ve had enough sausage... ...would you like to see my pimple headed trouser mole?   Show the one eyed zipper rat just where to hide his nose. Tell the pink policeman where his purple helmet goes. You can do it in a disco, you can do it in a small-room If you wear baggy trousers you’ve already got the ball-room. Into the old dark continent send Doctor Livingstone. Warp the  S.S. Enterprise into the Twilight Zone. Oooh look! Here comes a guided muscle to blast you into maternity...   Belly to Belly, Toes to toes Plant that cucumber, my goodness how it grows The todger, the nodger, the old pork walking stick The Honourable member who stands for Hampton Wick The sausage, the banger, the roly-poly pud Lubricate the loofah it will make you feel so good Hide that sausage, Hide it, You won’t be disappointed If you can hide it by yourself you must be double jointed Submerge the old salami, sink the submarine Hot Dog Sandwich with a wiener in between Plunge that dipstick and get the engine crankin’ It’s much more fun than football and nearly as good as wankin’ Show the bald head ferret where the bunny rabbit’s gone But make sure he keeps his overcoat on! Well a little chippolata That points down to your toes Is as good as a big Frankfurter That reaches up to your nose And 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 Don't be a wanker just... 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 Everybody Hide the sausage, come on and hide the sausage Hide the sausage, come on and hide the sausage Let's all conceal the saveloy Let's go barmy with the salami Let's put the toad in the hole Would you like to play a tune on my pork clarinet? Get it right out of sight

Ooh-la-la-la-la-la Ooh-la-la-la-la-la Ooh-la-la-la-la-la Ooh Jeremy, Jeremy

Johnny is the singer in a one-man band He's got the drums on his feet He's got the guitar in his hand Mondays to Saturdays and one-night stands But he doesn't do it for the glory He's kicking on the pedal And keeping it tight He's going for the rhythm 'Cause he knows that's right Playing for drinks and cash on the night I guess it's the same old story J-J-J-J-J Johnny Won't you play your one-man band J-J-J-J-J Johnny Play me something that I can understand J-J-J-J-J Johnny Play me something that I can clap my hands And he goes B'wana, B'wana, B'wana, B'wana B'wana, B'wana, B'wana, B'wana B'wana, B'wana, B'wana, B'wana They're only rhymes to lines And he goes B'wana, B'wana, B'wana, B'wana B'wana, B'wana, B'wana, B'wana B'wana, B'wana, B'wana, B'wana They're only rhymes to lines Smiley Lewis and Wee Willie Wayne Antoine Domino and Mystery Train Lawdy Miss Claudy and Love In Vain He can play any song that you give him He's a rock steady teddy with a Berry on top He's a Blue Suede cruiser with a Diddley-Bop He's a Country Line Special he's a top of the pop He's got a wonderful sense of rhythm J-J-J-J-J Johnny Won't you play your one-man band J-J-J-J-J Johnny Play me something that I can understand J-J-J-J-J Johnny Play me something that I can clap my hands And he goes Tell your ma, tell your pa This old boy's gonna drive you so far Everybody goes cruisin' on a saturday night "Hello, my name's Johnny G and I'm going to be famous" Johnny had a record but it just didn't sell It didn't get promoted so it didn't do well The radio said it was as funky as hell I guess it's just a matter of timing But Johnny's gonna make it It's as plain as plain And we can say we knew him Before he made his name Johnny's got his ticket Catching every train To where the spotlight's shining J-J-J-J-J Johnny Won't you play your one-man band J-J-J-J-J Johnny Play me something that I can understand J-J-J-J-J Johnny Play me something that I can clap my hands And he goes... (excerpt from Theme from Sharp & Natural)

My brother is a Nudist He doesn’t give a hoot You can hear him shout when the sun comes out And he runs about in his birthday suit Just the bare essentials He don’t care what folks think Showing his credentials While the ladies stop and blink