I'm not allowed to sing any songs in this bloomin' nursing 'ome any more. As soon as I starts, one of the nurses blows the whistle an' they all jumps on me - Big Bertha usually sits on my kisser - which I'd enjoy if it wernt for her flatulence wot knocked me out cold last time. I woz only singing the one abaht "The 'airs on her dicky-dido 'ang dahn to 'er knees". Mindyer, Big Bertha's start well below 'er knees and go all the way upwards and when matron 'asn't shaved for a week, 'er beard goes right down 'er neck.

If any of yer poncey folk clubs wants some real songs - why don't yer give me a go. That also goes for any of you young birds like that Liz the Squeak (I used to 'ave a bird wot sqeaked - but a bit of vaseline used to cure that) or that there Mrs Duck (I like girls wot ducks down) an also that PussyPiddle or whatever she calls 'erself - they all sound like real young go-ers.