| Well, I don’t care to eat out in smart restaurants
|
| I’d rather do a Vindaloo: take away is what I want
|
| I was down at the old Bengal, having telephoned a treat
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| When I saw her framed in the kitchen door
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| She looked good enough to eat
|
| (And I mean eat.)
|
| She was a tall thin girl
|
| She looked like a tall thin girl
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| She said, Whose is this carry-out?
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| My face turned chilli red
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| Well, I don’t know about carrying out
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| But you can carry me off to bed
|
| (And I mean bed.)
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| She was a tall thin girl
|
| She moved like a tall thin girl
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| Maybe I can fetch for it
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| And maybe I can stretch for it
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| I may not be a fat man and I’m not exactly small
|
| But when it all comes down, couldn’t stand my ground
|
| This girl was tall
|
| (And I mean tall.)
|
| Big boy Doane, he’s a drummer. |
| Don’t play no tambourine
|
| But he’s Madras hot on the bongo trot
|
| If you know just what I mean
|
| Stands six foot three in his underwear;
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| Going to get him down here and see
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| If this good lady’s got a little sister 'bout the same size as me
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| She was a tall thin girl
|
| She looked like a tall thin girl
|
| Well, can I fetch for it?
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| Well, maybe I can stretch for it?
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| Well, am I up for it? |
| Or do I have to go down for it? |