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Re: Spitfires in songs

To: goalie_john@yahoo.co.uk, spitfires@autox.team.net
Subject: Re: Spitfires in songs
From: "Lyta Byron" <lytabyron@hotmail.com>
Date: Sat, 05 May 2001 20:32:50 -0700
I found the entire lyrics for "Rhinocratic Oaths" It says 1968.
Enjoy, (I have to admit it does sound a bit bizarre!)
Kristi

(Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, c.1968)

(Recited, with a bizarrely cheerful tune running endlessly in the 
background)

After his second wife passed away, Percy Rawlinson seemed to spend more and 
more time with his Alsatian, Al.  His friends told him, "You should get out 
more, Percy, you'll wind up looking like a dog, hah hah."  He was later 
arrested near a lamppost.  At his trial some months later he surprised 
everyone by mistaking a policeman for a postman and tearing his trousers off 
with his bare teeth.  In his defense he told the court, "It's hard to tell 
the difference when they take their hats off."

Mrs. Betty Finch was playing the trombone when she heard a knock at the 
door.  "I wonder who that is at 11 o'clock in the morning?" she thought.  
But cautiously opening the door, instead of the turbaned ruffian she 
expected, she found a very nice young man.  "Mrs. Finch, you've won the car 
contest; would you like a Triumph Spitfire or #3000 in cash?" he smiled.  
Mrs. Finch took the money.  "What will you do with it all, not that it's any 
of my business?" he giggled.  "I think I'll become an alcoholic," said 
Betty.

With a geranium behind each ear and his face painted with gay cabalistic 
symbols, 6'8" 17-stone police sergeant Jeff Bull looked jolly convincing as 
he sweated and grunted through a vigorous twist routine at the Fraga Gogo 
Via Kellar.  His hot serge trousers flapped wildly over his enormous plastic 
sandals as he jumped and jumped and gyrated toward a long-haired man.  "Uh, 
excuse me man, I've reason to believe you can turn me on," he leered 
suggestively.  As if by magic, dozens of truncheons appeared and mercilessly 
thrashed him.  Poor Jeff -- what a turn-out for the books.

Much as he hated arguments or any kind of unpleasantness, Ron Shirr thought 
things had gone too far when returning from a weekend in Clacton he found 
that his neighbor had trimmed the enormous hedge dividing their gardens into 
the shape of a human leg.  Enraged and envious beyond belief, Ron seized his 
garden shears and clipped his white poodle Rex into the shape of a coffee 
table.  "That'll fix it," thought Ron -- but he was wrong.  The following 
Wednesday his neighbor had his bushy waist-length hair cut and permed into a 
model of the Queen Elizabeth and went sailing.  Everywhere he went, people 
said "Hurray!"  Sometimes you just can't win.

Vivian Stanshall/Neil Innes




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