Lyrics
Sweet sixteen goes to church
Just to see the boys
Laughs and screams and giggles
At every little noise
Turns her face a little
And turns her head awhile
But everybody knows she's
Only putting on the style
She's putting on the agony
Putting on the style
That's what all the young folks
Are doing all the while
And as I look around me
I sometimes have to smile
Seeing all the young folks
Putting on the style
Well the young man in the hot rod car
Driving like he's mad
With a pair of yellow gloves
He's borrowed from his dad
He makes it roar so lively
Just to make his girlfriend smile
But she knows he's only
Putting on the style
He's putting on the agony
Putting on the style
That's what all the young folks
Are doing all the while
And as I look around me
I sometimes have to smile
Seeing all the young folks
Putting on the style
Preacher in the pulpit
Roars with all his might
Sing Glory Halleluja
Puts the folks all in a fright
Now you might think it's satan
That's a-coming down the aisle
But it's only our poor preacher boys
That's putting on his style
Putting on the agony
Putting on the style
That's what all the young folks
Are doing all the while
And as I look around me
I sometimes have to smile
Seeing all the young folks
Putting on the style
Putting on the agony
Putting on the style
That's what all the young folks
Are doing all the while
And as I look around me
I sometimes have to smile
Seeing all the young folks
Putting on the style
Putting on the agony
Putting on the style
That's what all the young folks
Are doing all the while
And as I look around me
I sometimes have to smile
Seeing all the young folks
Putting on the style
MY OLD MAN'S A DUSTMAN - 31/03/1960
4 weeks at #1 - 13 weeks on chart
Now here's a little story
To tell it is a must
About an unsung hero
That moves away the dust
Some people make a fortune
Others earn a mint
My old man don't earn much
In fact he's bloomin' skint
Oh my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
He looks a proper 'nana
In his great big hob nailed boots
He's got such a job to pull 'em up
That he calls 'em daisy roots
Some folks give tips at christmas
And some of them forget
So when he picks their bins up
He spills some on the step
Now one old man got nasty
And to the council wrote
Next time my old man went round there
He punched him up the throat
Oh my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
I say I say Les
(Yeah)
I found a police dog in my dustbin
(How do you know it was a police dog)
He had a policeman with him
Though my old mans a dustman
He's got an 'art of gold
He got married recently
Though he's 86 years old
We said 'ere hang on dad
You're getting past your prime
He said well when you get my age
It 'elps to pass the time
Oh my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
I say I say I say
My dustbin's full of lilies
(Well throw'em away then)
I can't lily's wearing 'em
Now one day whilst in a hurry
He missed a ladies bin
He hadn't gone but a few yards
When she chased after him
What game d'you think you're playing
She cried right from the 'art
You've missed me am I too late
Nah jump up on the cart
Oh my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
I say I say I say
(Not you again)
My dustbin's absolutely full with toadstools
(How d'you know it's full)
Cuz there's not mushroom inside
He found a tiger's head one day
Nailed to a piece of wood
The tiger looked quite miserable
But I suppose he should
Just then from out the window
A voice began to wail
He said Oy where's me tigers head
Four feet from his tail
Oh my old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He wears cor blimey trousers
And he lives in a council flat
Next time you see a dustman
Looking all pale and sad
Don't kick him in the dustbin
It might me my old dad
WRITERS
NORMAN CAZDEN
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © T.R.O. INC.
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LyricIQ Analysis
Top Emotion
Anger
Sentiment
Theme
Abuse and Violence
