I’m a crumpet man
I don’t mind
confessin’
But equally I like
Buns, baps and muffin
I’m a crumpet man
I don’t mind
confessin’
But equally I like
Buns, baps and muffin
I was out on the lash on Saturday night
But I think it ended
in disgrace
As I woke up in a skip
next morning
With a kebab stuck to
my face
I hate automated switchboards
They are so annoyingly
slow
I wanted to book
tickets
For an Elvis act a
know
Each minute on the
phone
Was costing me dough
Then at last it said press
1
For the money, 2 for
the show
He had the Tarka Vindaloo
The rotter
It’s like Chicken
Vindaloo
But its otter
I work at the met office
And my name is Bob
I have to do the
pollen count
God it’s a difficult
job
Tom, Tom of Islington,
Married a wife on Sunday,
And that’s all I will tell
Because to be honest
it doesn’t end well
Are you wearing perfume?
I can smell it in this
room
It’s a very seductive
brew
Are you sure its not
you?
Then the answer is
clear
And your brother has I
fear
Without our consent
Suzy
Been entertaining a
floozy