I lived in West Brompton which shared the FLAxman code with much trendier Chelsea, so I only told prospective conquests my 'phone number. Their horror if or when they came back to my grotty bedsit in Lots Road instead of a trendy Chelsea pad can best be imagined.

Yes, the song mentioned above was by Sidney Carter, and, if I remember aright, finished like this:

Standing alone in the dust and the dark
Of a dirty old phone box in Finsbury Park
I asked for Freemantle they gave me a FRO
I asked for a Primrose they gave me a PRO.

Chorus:

Say who you are love and not hello
Give me your name or give me your number
Say who you are love and not hello
If I press button A, all my pennies will go.

My mother is waiting at Lancaster Gate
I promised to call her at a quarter to eight
I've been trying to ring her, but what can I do
Instead of my mother I keep getting you

Chorus

There's many a fine girl that I've got to know
Through a fault on the line at the old GPO
I'd do it again, but it wouldn't be right
I've promised to telephone mother tonight

Chorus