(Spoken)
You are about to witness the extent of my cricket knowledge
Straight out of Surrey, a gentleman rhymer named Mr. B
Friendly with chaps with an air of mystery
Were I poised to be sad, I've got some more s***
Squeeze it out the pipe and declare it is a voice brag
It'd be super if you dined with me
The constabulary popped in for a swifty
Doff my hat at a passer when I'm going out
Grecian Two Thousand on my 'stache seems to be growing out
Please don't ramble, try to act humble
You embarrass yourself when you b**ble
Going on about your mother like that.
With a hat that's jaunty angled and
The s*** is so smooth
I've got a chair by the fire so I shan't move
Talk of murder, that's so tawdry
I have a crime record like Charles Hawtrey
A good Duncan Fearnley is the tool
My dear boy, you bowl like a fool
I'll take you to The Oval maybe,
I've a seat in the box daily,
Or weekly, monthly, yearly
I'm on hand to observe Mike Brearley
Bat them down when we play the MCC
But you don't dare chuck at me
For when I'm at the crease
It'll be a duck
I'll keep bowling my arm straight
I'll never chuck
You'll be out third ball in a hurry
And when I'm with the bat, dear boy
I'm batting straight out for Surrey
(Surrey, Surrey, Surrey)
Straight outta Surrey
Straight outta Surrey
(Now Mr. B)
Yes?
(Tell 'em where you're from)
Straight out of Surrey, I attack the ball with vigor
The force I hit, yes my score gets bigger
I'm a batsman, dear boy, and you know this
I've knocked it on the scoreboard to show this
I don't really mind if you don't rate these chaps
For their country, they've got a hundred caps
It's like burglary, our definition of batting
With a legal straight arm, I'll send you packing
I'll whack another boundary in a minute
I find a gap in the outfield and go and fill it
So if you're on a deck chair in the front row
You best watch yourself because
Over they go
You might get rather miffed,
Which of course you're entitled to
I'll stroll over there in my whites and frighten you
But when a jolly Hottentot from the seats
Throws the ball back in bits
I'll charm her with wits
And with her blouse signed she'll leave ecstatic
(Oh, Mr B, you're so charismatic!)
Not the right hand, I'm the hand itself
Every time I pull a Duncan Fearnley off the shelf
Linseed oil is maximum and that's the law
Don't bowl me a googly, it's such a bore
'Cause I'm a ruddy b***** villain
The definition is clear
You're the witness of a grilling
That's taking place before a gruel
A lapsang souchon and a slice of Lanark Blue
Yes, you may give me a little lip
But a sledger like you
Gets hit down the bowling strip
Like Dennis Compton
(Compton, Compton, Compton)
Straight outta Surrey
Straight outta Surrey
(Oh Mr. B)
Surrey
Surrey
Surrey
(Now Mr. B)
Straight outta Surrey
Straight out of Surrey
(Now Mr. B)
Straight outta Surrey
Straight outta Surrey
(Now Mr. B)
Yes?
You are about to witness the extent of my cricket knowledge
Straight out of Surrey, a gentleman rhymer named Mr. B
Friendly with chaps with an air of mystery
Were I poised to be sad, I've got some more s***
Squeeze it out the pipe and declare it is a voice brag
It'd be super if you dined with me
The constabulary popped in for a swifty
Doff my hat at a passer when I'm going out
Grecian Two Thousand on my 'stache seems to be growing out
Please don't ramble, try to act humble
You embarrass yourself when you b**ble
Going on about your mother like that.
With a hat that's jaunty angled and
The s*** is so smooth
I've got a chair by the fire so I shan't move
Talk of murder, that's so tawdry
I have a crime record like Charles Hawtrey
A good Duncan Fearnley is the tool
My dear boy, you bowl like a fool
I'll take you to The Oval maybe,
I've a seat in the box daily,
Or weekly, monthly, yearly
I'm on hand to observe Mike Brearley
Bat them down when we play the MCC
But you don't dare chuck at me
For when I'm at the crease
It'll be a duck
I'll keep bowling my arm straight
I'll never chuck
You'll be out third ball in a hurry
And when I'm with the bat, dear boy
I'm batting straight out for Surrey
(Surrey, Surrey, Surrey)
Straight outta Surrey
Straight outta Surrey
(Now Mr. B)
Yes?
(Tell 'em where you're from)
Straight out of Surrey, I attack the ball with vigor
The force I hit, yes my score gets bigger
I'm a batsman, dear boy, and you know this
I've knocked it on the scoreboard to show this
I don't really mind if you don't rate these chaps
For their country, they've got a hundred caps
It's like burglary, our definition of batting
With a legal straight arm, I'll send you packing
I'll whack another boundary in a minute
I find a gap in the outfield and go and fill it
So if you're on a deck chair in the front row
You best watch yourself because
Over they go
You might get rather miffed,
Which of course you're entitled to
I'll stroll over there in my whites and frighten you
But when a jolly Hottentot from the seats
Throws the ball back in bits
I'll charm her with wits
And with her blouse signed she'll leave ecstatic
(Oh, Mr B, you're so charismatic!)
Not the right hand, I'm the hand itself
Every time I pull a Duncan Fearnley off the shelf
Linseed oil is maximum and that's the law
Don't bowl me a googly, it's such a bore
'Cause I'm a ruddy b***** villain
The definition is clear
You're the witness of a grilling
That's taking place before a gruel
A lapsang souchon and a slice of Lanark Blue
Yes, you may give me a little lip
But a sledger like you
Gets hit down the bowling strip
Like Dennis Compton
(Compton, Compton, Compton)
Straight outta Surrey
Straight outta Surrey
(Oh Mr. B)
Surrey
Surrey
Surrey
(Now Mr. B)
Straight outta Surrey
Straight out of Surrey
(Now Mr. B)
Straight outta Surrey
Straight outta Surrey
(Now Mr. B)
Yes?