Ian Dury And The Blockheads - My Old Man Lyrics

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My old man wore three piece whistles He was never home for long Drove a bus for London Transport He knew where he belonged Number 18 down to Euston Double decker move along Double decker move along My old man Later on he drove a Roller Chauffeuring for foreign men Dropped his aitches on occasion Said "Cor blimey!" now and then Did the crossword in the Standard At the airport in the rain At the airport in the rain My old man Wouldn't ever let his governors Call him 'Billy', he was proud Personal reasons make a difference His last boss was allowed Perhaps he had to keep his distance Made a racket when he rowed Made a racket when he rowed My old man My old man My old man was farly handsome He smoked too many cigs Lived in one room in Victoria He was tidy in his digs Had to have an operation When his ulcer got too big When his ulcer got too big My old man My old man Seven years went out the window We met as one to one Died before we'd done much talking Relations had begun All the while we thought about each other All the best, mate, from your son All the best, mate, from your son My old man My old man

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