A parody of "Down By The Liffeyside" which is itself a parody of "Down By The Sally Gardens".

THE COPYING OF MY BACKSIDE
It was to the office Christmas do, my colleague and I did stray
The pair of us were roarin' drunk, been drinkin' since the dawnin' of the day
We were both well-oiled and a bit shop-soiled, scuttered, bollixed, almost paralysed
Ah but now, by Christ, I am paying the price, for the copying of my backside

Well Jeanie was pissed on Irish Mist, Diamond White, vodka and Red Bull
"Have you got a Black Bush?" The barmaid blushed, thinking I was on the pull
Then the landlord's shout "Get the pair of yez out! I have had about enough of you!"
And we laughed till we cried as he turfed us outside and we staggered to the Christmas do

I'm not much of a dancer, I'm more of a romancer and under the flashing lights
Jeanie's face assumed a certain grace I almost didn't recognise
I damn nearly said "Ah now Jean, you're drop dead, how would you fancy an oul' shift?"
But she whispered in my ear "Johnny, come over here" and she gestured towards the goods lift

We stopped at Lower Ground and we made not a sound as we crept towards the reprograhics room
I pictured a scene, it was torrid and obscene, the pair of us hard at it in the gloom
"Do you know why we're here?" "I do indeed, my dear. It's clear that you are gaggin' for a ride …"
"Ah, John, go on. You're having me on. I want to copy your backside"

My ego deflated, I wouldn't be sated with loving provided by Jean
But I'm not one to sulk, so I hefted my bulk on to the copying machine
With my Ys round my feet, I rested my bare seat, on top of the photocopy glass
Till – with a loud retort – I am sorry to report the machine gave way beneath my ass

The machinery still hummed and jaggin' my bum were splinters and shrapnel and shards
I was wedged good and tight, I looked a quare sight and more humiliation on the cards
Jean pulled and tugged, but still I was snug, "It's no use Jean" at last I sighed
"You must go tell the boss, and I'll have to pay the cost for the copying of my backside"

Around me they flocked, and the flashbulbs went pop, tears of laughter fell like drops of rain
Trapped like a baste, naked from the waist, never been so belittled or ashamed
Just as Moses parted the Red Sea, my boss strode up to me and the crowds made way and stood aside
"Come the New Year you'll be out on your ear for the copying of your backside"