I’m one of those blokes; if I go to a dance It’s best if I stand by the wall Coz sheilas don’t often wear steel-capped boots It embarrasses me when I fall My feet are both left, of balance bereft I’m ungainly and clumsy and slow But I scorn your pity, don’t need it a bit y’see I have a talent also So here’s to the dancers Their rhythm and skill Good on them, wherever they are But you’ll never see One more graceful than me When I’m bringing back beer from the bar When I was kid if I asked: ‘Can I play?” The answer was always: ‘Get nicked’ When the teachers made captains line up and choose teams I was always the last to get picked The ball would whiz by coz me hand and me eye Too randomly co-ordinate Rejected and raw, it was years ‘til I saw Myself blessed by a much better fate So here’s to the sportsmen…. ‘Though I have been single for most of me life A ladies’ man I’ll never be The unlucky woman who would be my wife Would have to be clumsier than me ‘Though enthusiastic my action’s too spastic I can’t help it, that’s how I’m made But my character’s good and that’s just how it should be Without it I’d never get laid So here’s to the lovers…. My life would be tragic if not for that magic That’s truly, peculiarly, odd And instantly after I’ve paid for the beer Transforms a drunk into a god I glide through the crowd as light as a cloud ‘Though the glasses are filled to the top My footsteps are stable ‘til I reach my table I don’t spill the tiniest drop Here’s to the drinkers To us who don’t spill Good on us wherever we are And you’ll never see One more graceful than me When I’m bringing back beer from the bar

I plan a micturition Of exemplary precision I accept it as my mission Never more to splash the floor I imagine every fellow With a girlfriend’s heard her bellow ‘Cause that small puddle of yellow On the tiles always riles I know a lot of women’ll Consider it near criminal And with compunction minimal, Complain about our aim ‘Though quite a few demean us Most of them have never seen us At this business with the penis The thing whereof I sing I’m not making excuses But I’d hope that our abuses With our bodies’ excess juices ‘Though not good, be understood I don’t know the member’s physics But a strange thing ‘bout it is its Rigid will in morning visits To divide its gushing tide The main flow thunders straightly And it mystifies me greatly To observe how separately Is offset a smaller jet And although of lesser volume As you watch this trickle fall you Might neglect what should apall you Mate! its falling towards the wall! Moreover, the remotest From your thoughts, and quite unnoticed, A drip that’s missed the moat is Trickling down upon the ground So a stream that’s twice deflected Might explain why we’re suspected Of being so defective In the skills to ward off spills But what is the conclusion To be drawn from this confusion? This triple-streamed effusion? This failing of the male? Well, if your garden has a citrus And there’s no one there to witness I can recommend the fitness Of a splash upon the grass But when in the interior We ought not act superior But sit on our posterior We can still be a man! So I plan a micturition Of exemplary precision I accept it as my mission Never more to splash the floor

When I was just a kitten in those far-off days of yore There were string-things to be bitten and to bat at with my paw My eyes were blue and in their view The world seemed big and new There were lots of empty boxes to explore My people told me I was cute my playfulness they praised But I'll bet they often wondered why I’d act completely crazed And abruptly zoom through the living room As ‘though chased with a broom If I’d told them why they would have been amazed! But I wished I had a cat flap And could do bad stuff outside ‘Cause I couldn’t reach the door handle No matter how I tried And the kitty litter made me bitter I wanted something fitter Somewhere to poo and still retain my pride I grew to be a catly creature rich in dignity My level gaze inscrutable and steeped in mystery I'd meditate in regal state And well appreciate The sunlit virtues of passivity One day my people came home and bad lots of bad loud noise! I bolted from the kitchen, losing dignity and poise I thought them mean to make a scene But when my fur was clean I went back in, and there -Oh joy of joys! I found I had a catflap And could do bad stuff outside The dog will never use it 'Cause it's just one cat-width wide The ground's not hard in the backyard And I love the neighbour's garden Somewhere to poo and still retain my pride And now my fur has lost its luxury and I am old The sparrows on the balcony have never been so bold. They even trill on the window sill I’d jump up for the kill But it’s too high and besides the draught is cold But at least I have a catflap And can do bad stuff outside The dog has never used it 'Cause it's just one cat-width wide The ground's not hard in the backyard And I love the neighbour's garden Somewhere to poo and still retain my pride

There once was a shearer, by name Bluey Brink A bugger for work and the devil could drink He could shear his two hundred a day without fear Drink without winkin' four gallons of beer Now Jimmy the barman who served out the drink He hated the sight of this here Bluey Brink For he stayed much too late and he come much too soon At mornin', at evenin', at night and at noon One mornin' as Jimmy was cleanin' the bar With sulphuric acid he kept in a jar Bluey come yellin' and bawlin' with thirst "Whatever you've got Jim, just give to me first!" Now this aint down in history, you wont find it in print But that shearer drank acid with never a wink Sayin' "That's the stuff Jimmy! Why strike me stone dead This'll make me the ringer of Stephenson's shed!" Now all through the long day as he serves out the beer Jimmy is sick with his trouble and fear Too anxious to argue, too worried to fight Seein' that shearer a corpse in his fright But next mornin' as Jimmy is openin' the bar Along come that shearer askin' for more With his eyebrows all singed and his whiskers deranged Holes in his hide like a dog with the mange Says Jimmy: "And how did you like the new stuff?" Says Bluey: "It's fine but I've not had enough It gives me great courage to shear and to fight But why does that stuff set me whiskers alight? I thought I knew drink, but I must have been wrong That stuff that you gave me was proper and strong It set me to coughin' and you know I'm no liar And every damn cough set me whiskers on fire!

Now, I'm in love with a brown-eyed boy And he's in love with me But he's in love with a whiskey jug Likes likker better than me Oh bring me back my brown-eyed boy Oh bring him back to me Oh bring me back my brown-eyed boy Likes likker better than me Last night he came to see me Last night he smiled on me But tonight he smiles on a whiskey jug Likes likker better than me Sometimes I think I'll marry him And love him dearer than life But, oh, it's oh so hard to be A whiskey drinker's wife

Oh Shenandoah, I long to see you. Away you rollin' river Oh Shenandoah, I long to see you Away we're bound to go Across the wide Missouri Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter Away.. Oh Shenandoah, I'll not deceive you Away.. Oh Shenandoah, I'm bound to leave you Away.. For seven years I've been a rover Away.. But I'll return and be your lover. Away..