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Oh Jesus, there’s the doorbell!
He’s come home far too soon!
He was supposed to be working
All bloody afternoon.
I guess I’d better scarper
But Lord, where can I go?
Oh Hell, I’ve left my underpants
On the armchair down below.
There’s no space to find a place
Under the bed or fireplace
The wardrobe’s full,
That chest of drawers
Too small to hide behind, of course.
I hear him calling down below,
Is there some other place to go?
Open the window quietly
And hope to God he will not see.
Right! Down the drainpipe here I go
And hope the land is soft below.
I’ll pay for all those naughty joys
If I just make the slightest noise.
Oh, Hell the drainpipe’s come away,
And now I’m falling all the way.
[Crash!] Aaaargh, my head!
That scream’s enough to wake the dead.
[sounds of shouting and fighting]
Oh God, my body’s black and blue.
I’ve just been beaten through and through.
And as I hobble off in pain
I know I’ll never come again.
I feel as if I’ve paid the price
In agony not once but twice
And caused such matrimonial strife
By bedding an unfaithful wife.
The moral of this story’s clear
So learn it well and hold it dear:
If you’re transgressing anywhere
Don’t leave your pants upon the chair.