Old Spitfire was down on the beach
When he heard a man starting to preach
“What’s he spouting?” asked deaf old Spit
Nattering on - silly old twit
Old Spitfire was down on the beach
When he heard a man starting to preach
“What’s he spouting?” asked deaf old Spit
Nattering on - silly old twit
I’d thump him but I just can’t reach!
So he sent for Mups and her hounds
So he sent for Mups and her hounds
But the beach was out of bounds
So he sent for Mups and her hounds
But the beach was out of bounds
So she drove to Dundee
So he sent for Mups and her hounds
But the beach was out of bounds
So she drove to Dundee
To see what she could see
So he sent for Mups and her hounds
But the beach was out of bounds
So she drove to Dundee
To see what she could see
And enjoyed all the peaceful sounds.
Barry invited the Vicar to tea
Barry invited the Vicar to tea
Huh! He never invites me
Barry invited the Vicar to tea
Huh! He never invites me
So like me, repent all your sin
Barry invited the Vicar to tea
Huh! He never invites me
So like me, repent all your sin
and give up drinking gin
Barry invited the Vicar to tea
Huh! He never invites me
So like me, repent all your sin
and give up drinking gin
And then your soul will be free.
Barry thought and pondered this news
Barry thought and pondered this news
Whilst parading in red high heeled shoes
Barry thought and pondered this news
Whilst parading in red high heeled shoes
“Oh bugger” though he, “my secret’s out”
Barry thought and pondered this news
Whilst parading in red high-heeled shoes
“Oh bugger” though he, “my secret’s out”
And now the brickies will whistle and shout
Barry thought and pondered this news
Whilst parading in red high-heeled shoes
“Oh bugger” though he, “my secret’s out”
And now the brickies will whistle and shout
Let’s hope they don’t spot my tattoos.
As Boris was combing his hair
As Boris was combing his hair
He thought about his neighbour, Clare
As Boris was combing his hair
He thought about his neighbour, Clare
She was a buxom young thing
As Boris was combing his hair
He thought about his neighbour, Clare
She was a buxom young thing
And he could well imagine a fling
As Boris was combing his hair
He thought about his neighbour, Clare
She was a buxom young thing
And he could well imagine a fling
But he wondered if he really dare
He decided to chance his arm
He decided to chance his arm
And practiced all his old charm
He decided to chance his arm
And practiced all his old charm
So he zip wired to her house