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.
Okay 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 dino -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 athlete's foot
and you can be the plimsoll
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, it can't understand
Now I can't understand
why women don't like
Dear Anna Raeburn,
what am I doing wrong?
Now I can't understand
No, he can't understand
Now I can't understand
why women don't like me
I've got the brew cream's browns
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 pus
You can be the vomitbag
and I can be the trim
You can be the Y Front
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
I 've got the old teeth
and a motorbike inside
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 poker,
and you can be the stye.
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 Biggin, the word is hunt.
Are you sure?
I can be the stone,
and you can be the kidney.
You can be the choir boy,
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 whisky from the off -licence
And get Kermode hugging drunk
Or I might go and stick me gong