| She used to do a topless down at the Surrey Docks
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| With tassels on her whatsits she did a t’riffic job
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| Of raising all the eyebrows of every lunchtime mob
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| She went with all the tossers who kick about a ball
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| They say their club’s the greatest, and she has kissed them all
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| At the Arndale Centre, she’s up against the wall
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| I can’t name names cause that’s not cricket
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| I can’t name names that would put me in it
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| But that’s another story in the finish
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| I saw them at the pictures a tangled heap of love
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| He had so many women, but only classy stuff
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| I saw him at the clinic, a pink card up his cuff
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| One holiday in Bognor a stag night hit the town
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| The groom is in the car park with his trousers down
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| But that’s another story that won’t be going round
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| The Deptford had a beano to Southend for the night
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| With 40 crates of lager, to see the Southend lights
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| The got home for their breakfast pissed out of their minds
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| This girl gave me the minces so I asked her for a dance
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| And in the death I kissed her and so I took a chance
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| And when I went to touch her, she tried to break my arm |