New Boots and Panties
Released 30th September 1977

 

Side 1

Side 2

Wake Up and Make Love With Me

Clevor Trever

Sweet Gene Vincent

If I was with a Woman

I'm Partial to your Abracadabra

Blockheads

My Old Man

Plaistow Patricia

Billericay Dickie

Blackmail Man

Bonus tracks on the CD release

 

WAKE UP AND MAKE LOVE WITH ME

 

I come awake
With a gift for womankind
You're still asleep
But the gift don't seem to mind
Rise on this occasion
Halfway up your back
Sliding down your body
Touching your behind

You look so self-possessed
I won't disturb your rest
It's lovely when you're sleeping
But wide awake is best

Wake up and make love with me
Wake up and make love
Wake up and make love with me
I don't want to make you
I'll let the fancy take you
And you'll wake up and make love

You come awake
In a horny morning mood
And have a proper wriggle
In the naughty naked nude
Roll against my body
Get me where you want me
What happens next is private
It's also very rude

I'll go and get the post
And make some tea and toast
You have another sleep, love
It's me that needs it most

Wake up and make love with me
Wake up and make love
Wake up and make love with me
I don't want to make you
I'll let the fancy take you
And you'll wake up and make love

Wake up and make love with me
Wake up and make love
Wake up and make love with me
Wake up and make love
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up

 

SWEET GENE VINCENT

 

Blue Gene baby

Skinny white sailor, the chances were slender, the beauties were brief
Shall I mourn your decline with some Thunderbird wine and a black handkerchief?
I miss your sad Virginia whisper, I miss the voice that called my heart

Sweet Gene Vincent
Young and old and gone
Sweet Gene Vincent
Who, who, who slapped John?

White face, black shirt
White socks, black shoes
Black hair, white strat
Bled white, died black

Sweet Gene Vincent
Let the Blue Caps roll tonight
At the Sock Hop Ball in the Union Hall
The bop is their delight

Here come duck-tail Danny dragging uncanny Annie, she's the one with the flying feet
You can break the peace, daddy sickle grease, the beat is reet complete
And the jump-back honey in the dungarees, tight sweater and a pony-tail
Will you guess her age when she comes back-stage, the hoodlums bite their nails

Black gloves, white frost
Black crÍpe, white lead
White sheet, black knight
Jet black, dead white

Sweet Gene Vincent
There's one in every town
And the devil drives 'til the hearse arrives
And you lay that pistol down

Sweet Gene Vincent
With nowhere left to hide
With lazy skin and ashtray eyes
And perforated pride

So farewell, mademoiselle knicker-bocker hotel
Goodbye to money owed
But your leg still hurts and you need more shirts
You got to get back on the road

 

I'M PARTIAL TO YOUR ABRACADABRA

 

 Partial to your abracadabra
Enraptured by the joy of it all
So stop me where you start
The cockles of his heart
The panties sends it right up the wall

Please, please, stop it, it likes it
Tickles it to death either way
These lovely boots exist
To drive it round the twist
The call of nature must be obeyed

Glad it's over, but this is worse
Could hardly say it had been coerced
Stop it 'cos it likes it, it's worse

I'm partial to your abracadabra
The unforeseen erogenous zones
Stop, it insists
Slap it with your wrists
It likes it when you leave it alone

There's been a manifestation
Nature made it answer the call
It simply can't resist
Boots and pants like this
Abracadabra for all

Glad that's over, but this is worse
Roll it over, too perverse
Stop it 'cos it likes it, it's worse

I'm partial to your abracadabra
I'm partial to your abracadabra
I'm partial to your abracadabra
I'm partial to your abracadabra
I'm partial to your abracadabra
I'm partial to your abracadabra
I'm partial to your abracadabra
I'm partial to your abracadabra

 

MY OLD MAN

 

My old man wore three piece whistles
He was never home for long
Drove a bus for London Transport
He knew where he belonged
Number 18 down to Euston
Double decker move along
Double decker move along
My old man

Later on he drove a Roller
Chauffeuring for foreign men
Dropped his aitches on occasion
Said, "Cor blimey" now and then
Did the crossword in the Standard
At the airport in the rain
At the airport in the rain
My old man

Wouldn't ever let his governers
Call him 'Billy', he was proud
Personal reasons make a difference
His last boss was allowed
Perhaps he had to keep his distance
Made a racket when he rowed
Made a racket when he rowed
My old man
My old man

My old man was fairly handsome
He smoked too many cigs
Lived in one room in Victoria
He was tidy in his digs
Had to have an operation
When his ulcer got too big
When his ulcer got too big
My old man


My old man

Seven years went out the window
We met as one to one
Died before we'd done much talking
Relations had begun
All the while we thought about each other
All the best mate, from your son
All the best mate, from your son
My old man
My old man

 

BILLERICAY DICKIE

 

 Good evening, I'm from Essex
In case you couldn't tell
My given name is Dickie
I come from Billericay
And I'm doing very well

Had a love affair with Nina
In the back of my cortina
A seasoned-up hyena
Could not have been more obscener
She took me to the cleaners
And other misdemeanours
But I got right up between her
Rum and her Ribena

Well, you ask Joyce and Vicky
If candy-floss is sticky
I'm not a blinking thicky
I'm Billericay Dickie
And I'm doing very well

I bought a lot of Brandy
When I was courting Sandy
Took eight to make her randy
And all I had was shandy
Another thing with Sandy
What often came in handy
Was passing her a mandy
She didn't half go bandy

So, you ask Joyce and Vicky
If I ever took the mickey
I'm not a flipping thicky
I'm Billericay Dickie
And I'm doing very well

I'd rendez-vous with Janet
Quite near the Isle of Thanet
She looked more like a gannet
She wasn't half a prannet
Her mother tried to ban it
Her father helped me plan it
And when I captured Janet
She bruised her pomegranate

Oh, you ask Joyce and Vicky
If I ever shaped up tricky
I'm not a blooming thicky
I'm Billericay Dickie
And I'm doing very well

You should never hold a candle
If you don't know where it's been
The jackpot is in the handle
On a normal fruit machine

So, you ask Joyce and Vicky
Who's their favourite brickie
I'm not a common thicky
I'm Billericay Dickie
And I'm doing very well

I know a lovely old toe-rag
Obliging and noblesse
Kindly, charming shag from Shoeburyness
My given name is Dickie
I come from Billericay
I thought you'd never guess

So, you ask Joyce and Vicky
A pair of squeaky chickies
I'm not a flaming thicky
I'm Billericay Dicky
And I'm doing very well

Oh golly, oh gosh
Come and lie on the couch
With a nice bit of posh
From Burnham-on-Crouch
My given name is Dickie
I come from Billericay
And I ain't a slouch

So, you ask Joyce and Vicky
About Billericay Dickie
I ain't an effing thicky
You ask Joyce and Vicky
I'm doing very well

 

CLEVOR TREVER

 

 Just 'cos I ain't never had no nothing worth having never ever never, ever
You ain't got no call not to think I wouldn't I'm fall into thinking that I ain't too, clever
And it ain't not having one thing nor not another either neither is it anything, whatever
And it's not not knowing that there ain't nothing showing and I answer to the name, of Trevor
However

Just 'cos I ain't never said no nothing worth saying never ever never never, ever
Things have got read into what I never said till me mouth becomes me head which ain't not all that, clever
And it's not not saying one thing nor not another either neither is it anything I haven't said, whatever
And it ain't not proving that my mind ain't moving and I answer to the name, of Trevor
However

Knock me down with a feather, Clever Trevor
Widebrows wonder whether Clever Trevor's clever
Either have they got, nor neither haven't not
Got no right to make a clot out of Trevor

Why should I feel bad about something I ain't had
Such stupidiness is mad
'Cos nothing underfoot comes to nothing less to add
To a load of old toot
And I ain't half not half glad 'cos there's nowhere to put it even if I had
I'm a bit of a Jack the Lad

Knock me down with a feather, Clever Trevor
Widebrows wonder whether Clever Trevor's clever
Either have they got, nor neither haven't not
Got no right to make a clot out of Trevor

Also, it takes much longer to get up North, the slow way

 

IF I WAS WITH A WOMAN

 

 If I was with a woman she'd wonder what was happening
Little things would slowly go askew
If I was with a woman I'd make her quite unhappy
Specially when she did not want me to

If I was with a woman I'd make believe I loved her
All the time I would not like her much
If I was with a woman she'd soon become unsettled
I'd show her but I would not let her touch

Look at them laughing
Look at them laughing
Look at them laughing
Laughing, laughing

If I was with a woman I'd never ask her questions
But if she did not want me to I would
If I was with a woman I'd offer my indifference
And make quite sure she never understood

If I was with a woman I'd threaten to unload her
Every time she asked me to explain
If I was with a woman she'd have to learn to cherish
The purity and depth of my disdain

Look at them laughing
Look at them laughing
Look at them laughing
Laughing, laughing

I've been with a woman, she took away my spirit
No woman's coming close to me again
I've been with a woman, she took away my spirit
No woman's coming close to me again

Look at them laughing
Look at them laughing
Look at them laughing

Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing,

Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing,

Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing

Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing

Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing

Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing

 

BLOCKHEADS

 

 You must have seen parties of Blockheads
With blotched and lagered skin
Blockheads with food particles in their teeth
What a horrible state they're in

They've got womanly breasts under pale mauve vests
Shoes like dead pigs' noses
Cornflake packet jacket, catalogue trousers
A mouth what never closes

You must have seen Blockheads in raucous teams
Dressed up after work
Who screw their poor old Eileens
Get sloshed, and go berserk

Rotary accessory watches
Hire-purchase signet rings
A beauty to the bully boys
No lonely vestige clings

Why bother at all about Blockheads?
Why shouldn't they do as they please?
You know if it came to a brainy game
You could baffle a Blockhead with ease

How would you like one puffing and blowing in your ear-hole?
Or pissing in your swimming pool?

Bigger brained Blockheads often acquire
Black and orange cars
Premature ejaculation drivers
Their soft-top's got roll-bars

"Fill her up," they say the Blockheads
"Go on, stick it where it hurts!"
Their shapeless haircuts don't enhance
Their ghastly patterned shirts

Why bother at all about Blockheads?
Superior as you are
You're thoughtful and kind with a well-stocked mind
A Blockhead can't think very far

Imagine finding one in your laundry basket
Banging nails in your big black dog

Why bother at all about Blockheads?
Why should you care what they do?
'Cos after all is said and done
You're all Blockheads too!

Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads,

Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads,

Blockheads, Blockheads, Blockheads, (Oh Oi!), Blockheads, (Oh Oi!), Blockheads, (Oh Oi!), Blockheads, (Oh Oi!), Blockheads, (Oh Oi!)
 

PLAISTOW PATRICIA

 

 ARSEHOLES, BASTARDS, FUCKING CUNTS AND PRICKS
Aerosol, the bricks
A lawless brat from a council flat - oh, oh
A little bit of this and a little bit of that - oh, oh
Dirty tricks

From the Mile End Road
To the Matchstick Beacontree
Pulling strokes and taking liberties
She liked it best when she went up west - oh, oh
You can go to hell with your "well, well, well" - oh, oh

Who said good things always come in threes?
Reds and yellows purples blues and greens
She turned the corner before she turned fifteen
She got into a mess on the NHS - oh, oh
It runs down your arms and settles in your palms - oh, oh

Keep your eyeballs white and keep your needle clean
Plaistow Patricia, Plaistow Patricia
Plaistow Patricia, Plaistow Patricia

Her tits had dropped, her arse was getting spread
She lost some teeth, she nearly lost the thread
And then she did some smack with a Chinese chap - oh, oh, oh
An affair began with Charlie Chan - oh, oh

Well that was just before she really lost her head
Now she owns a showroom down the Mile End Road
And her outer garments are the latest mode

And there's a Siamese cat in the council flat - oh, oh
The finest grains for my lady's veins - oh, oh

And when it gets out of order, she goes away for a bit
Plaistow Patricia, Plaistow Patricia
Plaistow Patricia, Plaistow Patricia
Plaistow Patricia, Plaistow Patricia - oh
Go on, girl

 

BLACKMAIL MAN

 

 I'm an Irish cripple, a Scottish Jew
I'm the blackmail man
A raspberry ripple, a buckle my shoe
I'm the blackmail man
I'm a dead fish coon, a pikey Greek
I'm the blackmail man
A silvery spoon, a bubble and squeak
I'm the blackmail man

Well, I'm the blackmail man and I know what you do
Every one of you
I'm the blackmail man
You make me sick, make me Tom and Dick
I'll put the black on you
I'm the blackmail man
Blackmail man

I'm a Paki Chink, a half-cocked ponce
I'm the blackmail man
A tiddly-wink, a Charlie Ronce
I'm the blackmail man
I'm a no socks tramp, a cavalier drunk
I'm the blackmail man
A paraffin lamp, an elephant's trunk
I'm the blackmail man

I'm the blackmail man and I think you stink
You pen and ink
Blackmail man
I hate your guts, Newington Butts
I'll put the black on you
I'm the blackmail man

 

Hampton Wick, Berkshire Hunt
Fraser and Nash pony and trap
Blackmail man
Up your 'arris, in your mince
Hampton's don't leave fingerprints
I'm the blackmail man

Blackmail man and I think you stink
You pen and ink
I'm the blackmail man
I hate your guts, your Newington Butts
I put the black on you
I'm the blackmail man

 

Copyright details - All compositions written by Ian Dury/ Chaz Jankel except My Old Man, Billericay Dickie, Plaistow Patricia and Blackmail Man by Ian Dury/Steve Nugent.

Originally published by Blackhill Music Ltd, now published by Templemill Music Ltd/Warner Chappell Music

No infringement of copyright is intended. The purpose of this site is purely to encourage the sales of Ian Dury and the Blockheads records and allow fans to appreciate the clever lyrics and sing along with the songs.

 

RETURN TO THE IAN DURY ALBUM PAGE