Lyrics by Roger Coghill


The suits come down to Rotherhithe to chuck us from our homes

And build their new developments with money from the Gnomes.

But we’ve a secret weapon, a language of our own:

We call it Cockney Rhyming Slang, to keep our thoughts alone.


So “Plates of Meat” refers to feet, and “Barnet Fair” means hair.

If you want to say stairs, say “Apples and Pears”,

You don’t wear a suit, you call it a Flute; “Brown Bread”s the word for dead.

But we only use half of the phrase we choose, so “Barnet”s the hair on your head.


You’ll never get pissed, you’ll be Brahms and Lizst, and we’ll never tell you no lies,

Instead we call them Porkies, it’s the slang word we make from Pork Pies.

I guess it can cause much confusion when two or three words sound the same,

So Brown Bread could be bed, Pork Pies could be wise, and there would be no one to blame.


So here are some lessons in Cockney. Just tuck them away in your brain.

When you go up or down to old London town, you’ll hear them again and again.

When a Cockney says “Let’s have a butchers” he means to say look, - “Butcher’s Hook”.

When he talks of your boat he means fizzog or face

It’s not that your smile looks horribly vile, he just gets the word from “Boat Race”.


When a Cockney makes friends, you’re his China. Now how does he get to that state?

The trick is to rhyme something finer, and so “China Plate” becomes mate.

If he’s wanting to call up your handset, a Cockney won’t pick up a phone.

You’d better learn well, he’ll give you a bell to converse on the old Dog and Bone.


Now Cockneys drive round in their Jam Jars! You’ve guessed it! Their cars is the word.

It’s not up the hill; instead Jack and Jill. I hope you don’t find it absurd!

North and South is your mouth, Mince Pies are your eyes; talk’s Rabbit and Pork, do you see?

If you go to the pub, it’s the Rub a Dub Dub, Want a cuppa? Then say Rosie Lee.


And if you get kicked up the Khyber, though I hope that it won’t come to pass,

Without causing stress, I will leave you to guess what could rhyme with the words Khyber Pass?!

When you find that you’re feeling quite tiddly, It comes from the game Tiddly Winks

So converting that phrase into commoner ways, means you’ve simply had too many drinks.


And when you decide to get married to your Trouble and Strife, that’s your wife,

And you find yourself skint, say Boracic Lint, - perhaps for the rest of your life!

Would you Adam and Eve it? Believe it, you have a bright future ahead

With two Dustbin Lids, I mean to say kids, you’ll enjoy life… before you’re Brown Bread!

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