Teksty: The Korgis. Dirty Postcards.

I thought it was a joke when you called me up

And said you needed ironing

There were creases in your facial lining



Won't you have a little rest when they turn out the lights

A nice cup of tea and you'll be feeling alright

Don't fret, you'll recover yet you'll see

So keep on sending dirty postcards back to me

Back to me, back to me



I thought it was a lark when you phoned my dad

And told him that you'd have to catch the measles

You're flesh was being ripped to shreds by weasels



Won't you have a little rest when they turn out the lights

A nice cup of tea and you'll be feeling alright

Don't fret, you'll recover yet you'll see

So keep on sending dirty postcards back to me

Back to me, back to me



T'was on the Norfolk Broads

We were punting one day

You received a nasty bump on the head

And you've never been the same since needless to say

How I wish it could have been me instead

I wish it could have been me instead



I thought it was a prank when you wired the Pope

To say you'd a vision of an aardvaark

Who was perpetrating ghastly deeds with St Mark



Won't you have a little rest when they turn out the lights

A nice cup of tea and you'll be feeling alright

Don't fret, you'll recover yet you'll see

So keep on sending dirty postcards back to me

Back to me, back to me