Sometimes
I'll notice you and sometimes I won't
Sometimes you fascinate and sometimes you don't
With Max Factor eyes that look out of their
heads
And a gob that strangles vowels while they sleep
in their beds
You look manly and awkward and your clothes
are second-hand
A sort of buy one and get one free one night
stand
Like Bette Davis in 'Baby Jane,' the resemblance
is uncanny
But most of us have lay in bed with an ear cocked
to a tranny
You've been around
the block a bit and to be honest it shows
But I'm intrigued by a face that's sixty five
per cent nose
With a lorry driver's jacksy wrapped in glad
rags
While you gargle pints of wife beater and smoke
diet fags
Walking someone else's walk and dressing very
up
And stuffing those chicken fillet things in
a double D cup
Loving bri-nylon, chapter and verse
But you're longways parked dear in a sideways
universe
Dressing
up, dressing down
Love Ethel Austin
Big hands, little hands
Rosemary in time
Dressing up, dressing down
Love Ethel Austin
You've got more balls than most hidden up your
sleeve
I've seen your
best moves on the bacon counter
A latter day L-o-l-a in a modern briefs encounter
Dressing like your mother dressed in 1966
And taking it on a stubbled chin from stones
and sticks
Trapped inside those corduroy kecks for all
those years
You were sucked through a man-hole by a flash
flood of tears
Give it to me straight and tell me why
In a big girl's blouse, big boys don't cry
In polyester
slacks from the sale at T.K.Maxx
And a bra from the Army and Navy
You've permed your legs and waxed your hair
And now there's no lumps in your gravy
You told your ex-wife that you'd changed your
life
And you wrote in a note that you missed her
Then for old time's sake you ran your big, hairy
hands
Up and down her sister
Dressing
up, dressing down
Love Ethel Austin
Big hands, little hands
Rosemary in time
Dressing up, dressing down
Love Ethel Austin
You've got more balls than most hidden up your
sleeve
I've
seen your best moves on the bacon counter
A latter day L-o-l-a in a modern briefs encounter
Dressing like your mother dressed in 1966
And taking it on a stubbled chin from stones
and sticks
Trapped inside those corduroy kecks for all
those years
You were sucked through a man-hole by a flash
flood of tears
Give it to me straight and tell me why
In a big girl's blouse, big boys don't cry
