If I were not in the CID
Something else I’d like to be
If I were not in the CID
A window cleaner me
With a rub-a-dub-dub
And a scrub-a-dub-dub
And a rub-a-dub all day long
With a rub-a-dub-dub
And a scrub-a-dub-dub
I’d sing this very song - HEY!
A lovely song, Duckie.
Do you know how old she is?
Well, you have to know these things when you’re a king, you know.
Nothing, dear. You’re not qualified!
I still can’t see it.
Oh, don’t ask. He’s in one of his bleeding moods. ‘The bourgeoisie this is the bourgeoisie that’ - he’s like a little child sometimes. I was only telling the Rainiers the other day - course he’s always rude to them, only classy friends we’ve got - I was saying solidarity with the masses I said… pie in the sky! Oooh! You’re not a Marxist are you Mrs Conclusion?
I will not buy this record, it is scratched.
Congratulations on buying the executive version of this record.
Do as you’re told, man.
I like a nice dance; you’re forced to!
Everyone must hanker
For the butchness of a banker
It’s accountancy that makes the world go round.
Anyway.
Look, we’ll eat your mum. Then, if you feel a bit guilty about it afterwards, we can dig a grave and you can throw up into it.
Shut your noise, you! And get that suit on! And no singing!
I wish I’d been a girlie, just like my dear papa.
Who said that?
Matthias, son of Deuteronomy of Gath.
My hovercraft is full of eels.
Are you nervy, irritable, depressed, tired of life. (winks) Keep it up.