Standard (EADGBE)
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: 133211 : x3555x
: x1333x : 320033
: x02220 : 022100
She used to a topless down at the Surrey docks,
With tassles on her wotsits, she did a t'riffic job,
Of raising all the eyebrows, of every lunchtime mob.
She went with all the tossers, who kick about a ball,
They say their club's the greatest and she has kissed them all,
At the Arndale Centre, she's up against the wall.
I can't name names cos that's not cricket,
I can't name names that would put me in it,
But that's another story in the finish.
I saw them at the pictures, a tangled heap of love,
He had so many women, but only classy stuff.
I saw him at the clinic, a pink card up his cuff
One holiday in Bognor, a stag night hit the town,
The groom was in the car park, with his trousers down,
But that's another story that won't be going round.
I can't name names cos that's not cricket,
I can't name names that would put me in it.
But that's another story in the finish.
The Deptford had a beano, to Southend for the night,
With forty crates of lager, to see the Southend lights,
They got home for their breakfast, pissed out of their minds.
This girl gave me the minces, so I asked her for a dance,
And in the death I kissed, and so I took a chance,
And when I went to touch her, she tried to break my arm.
I can't name names cos that's not cricket,
I can't name names that would put me in it.
But that's another story in the finish.
'Know what I mean, eh? Bob?'