When they're both long enough to tie up
in a bow,
When it's not the sweet chariot that
swings low,
When they're less of a friend and more
of a foe,
Then I wish I'd looked after me tits.
When I was young I got whistles and
hoots,
From the men on the site to the men in
the suits,
Now me nipples get stuck in the zips on
me boots,
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits.
