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  Lyrics: Roger Coghill, (roger@bampibill.co.uk) 17 February 2015


PANTS DOWN


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.



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