The Mayor of Bayswater,
He had a pretty daughter.

Chorus
And the hairs of her dinky-di-doo,
Hang down to her knees.
And the hairs... (Pack echoes:) And the hairs!
And the hairs... (Pack echoes:) And the hairs!
(together)
*And the hairs of her dinky-di-doo,
*Hang down to her knees.

She lived on a mountain,
And pissed like a bloody fountain.

I've smelt it, I've felt it,
It's just like a piece of velvet.

She's not a great looker,
But everyone took 'er.

She slept with a demon,
Who washed her with semen.

When she was at the Hash House,
They sheltered my trouser mouse.

If she were my daughter,
I'd have them cut shorter.

She fished at the bass hole,
While I poled her asshole.

She married a Japanese,
And blew him every time he sneezed.

She came from Glamorgan,
With a cunt like a barrel organ.

She lived in a lighthouse,
Which stank like a bloody shitehouse.

I've seen it, I've seen it,
I've lain right in between it.

You need a coal miner,
To find her vagina.

She went with a Hash House Harrier,
Who fucked her but wouldn't marry her.

I've stroked them, I've poked them,
I've even rolled them up and smoked them.

She married a preacher,
To find out what he could teach her.

If she were my daughter,
I'd have them cut shorter.

She says she's not a whore,
But she bangs like a shit-house door.

I could not believe my eyes,
When I peed between her thighs.

She stayed on a cattle ranch,
And came like a bloody avalanche.

She lived on a malted milkshake,
And rooted like a bloody rattlesnake.

She married an Italian,
With balls like a fucking stallion.

She divorced the Italian,
And married a stallion.

It was always hit-or-miss,
Whether I could find her clitoris.

Her cat's name was Boris,
And it played with her clitoris.

She went to Arabia,
And got camel drool on her labia.

She stayed in Seattle,
And went down on cattle.

She married a Spaniard,
With a prick like a bloody lanyard.

She sits on the waterfront,
With the waves lapping up and down her cunt.

I've licked it, I've kissed it,
It tastes like a chocolate biscuit.

You can drive a mini minor,
Right up her vagina.

The light is so glitorous,
When it shines off her clitoris.

Her vagina was squishy,
And smelled a bit fishy.

The aroma it lingers,
It smells like fish fingers.

* Variations for the last two chorus lines
And one forty pound strength one,
Hangs down to her knees.
And one I caught a trout on...
And one I found on a bar of soap...
And one that blocked the storm drain...
And one she used as dental floss...
And one she uses for macrame...
And one dripping in olive oil...
And one that smelt of clitty litter...
And one to start the lawn mower with...
And one covered in algae...
And one I found in my mug of beer...
And one the crabs are stuck on...