Permissive Twit Lyrics - Gilbert Osullivan

Oh Heave help our Linda 

She's really done it now 

What's more it's all so obvious 

I mean her stomachs sticking out 

If father tells me' mother 

She's bound to have a fit 

Followed by a neat convulsion 

Thanks to our permissive twit 

She thinks his name was Ronald 

Or was it Sid or Len 

The only thing that's certain 

Is that it wasn't Bill or Ben 

Our parish priest God bless him 

The very reverend Father Pitt 

Will no doubt be preaching sermons 

To our dear Permissive Twit 

By now the word 

Will no doubt have been heard 

By almost every bleeding nosy parker in our alley 

All except that is 

Our own great aunt Liz 

Who I hear's been deaf since the day our Grace 

Recorded Sally, Sally, Sally 

Unless we raise the money 

She'll have to let it out 

What I mean is she will have to 

Have it the right way wrong way about 

In other words let nature 

Take its course and do its bit 

For the sake of those concerned with 

Own dear permissive 

Dear permissive twit