(Note:Sung to "The Ash Grove")

The Mayor of Bayswater,
He had a pretty daughter.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

She lived on a mountain,
And pissed like a bloody fountain.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

I've smelt it, I've felt it,
It's just like a piece of velvet.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

She's not a great looker,
But everyone took 'er.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

If she were my daughter,
I'd have them cut shorter.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

She came from Glamorgan,
With a cunt like a barrel organ.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

She lived in a lighthouse,
Which stank like a bloody shitehouse.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

I've seen it, I've seen it,
I've lain right in between it.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

You need a coal miner,
To find her vagina.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

I've stroked them, I've poked them,
I've even rolled them up and smoked them.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

She married a preacher,
To find out what he could teach her.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

She married an Italian,
With balls like a fucking stallion.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

I've licked it, I've kissed it,
It tastes like a chocolate biscuit.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

You can drive a mini minor,
Right up her vagina.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

Her vagina was squishy,
And smelled a bit fishy.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

The aroma it lingers,
It smells like fish fingers.
And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her knees.

...And the hair on her dicky-di-do,
Hangs down to her kneeeees.