Lyrics:

Spear

(munching sound)
Hello. Well, that was the sound of Roger's Wah-wah rabbits. You heard them eating endives, there. That's very cheap at this time of the year. But now, here in Wilsdon Green, yes, *brrr*, it is a bit chilly, but, no matter, because here comes a gentleman, and we're going to talk to him about shirts.
-Excuse me, sir, would you mind talking to us about shirts?
-Hey, what?
-About shirts.
-Shirts?
-Yes.
-I've got plenty at home.
-*heh* ...good grief...
...and here comes a lady with an enchanting... little... kangaroo. ...and I'm going to ask her something about shirts.
No I'm not... because she's giving me a rather a vulgar sign.. uh... would you... 'scuse me... would you mind... we're talking about shirts.
-eh?
-about shirts.
-shirts?
-yes. The problem of shirts. The kind of... y'know... are they necessary? Shirts.
-Where it is.
-Yes... where it is. Where is shirts?
-I don'know.
-You don't know?
Umm... oh dear... ah... There's a gentleman marching down here with a really determined stride. He looks a little cautious. He's... hopping. 'Scuse me, sir, would you mind talking to me for a moment at all?
-Well, whatd'ya mean, guvnor, what d'y'wanta know?
-Well, we're talking about shirts. About, are they still necessary, d'you think, I mean, do you think they should stop making shirts?
-Oh no. Not at all. A man's not dr, not dressed unless he's got a nice on guv'nor, is he?
-Not really. What about the length of the shirt, 'cos the old ones used to be rather long...
-Well, I'm all for the short shirt. The old types old fashioned make, them, be a bit modern these days, guv'nor, ain't they?
-Yes. Ok. Well, you're certainly with it, aren't you?
-Well, they are. You gotta be with it. Course.
-'sall.
-yes.
-right. OK, well, thank you very much indeed.
-bye bye.
-byebye.
Well, I think we're gonna have to leave it there, and I'm gonna take you right away, straight over to the Earls Court Olympia to watch the Shirt Event. I'll repeat that, the Shirt Event. I'll repeat that, the Shirt Event. I'll repeat that, the Shirt Event.
[song]
Oo-oo. La laa la la la la-ah, la laa la la la la-a...
(fades to back, as dialogue starts:)
-Good morning, could I have this shirt cleaned express, please?
-Yes, that'll be three weeks, dearie.
-Three weeks?! But the sign outside says '59 minute cleaners!'
-Yes, that's just the name of the shop, luv. We take three weeks.
-Just the name of the shop?
-Yes. That is, if there's an 'R' in the month, of course, otherwise it's 4 weeks.
-OH!
-Your name does begin with a 'P,' doesn't it?
-Well, no, actually...
-Well, that'll be 5 weeks, then... except it's a leap year, which will take a little bit longer... and then, you'll never even get your shirt...
-Five Weeks! BLIMEY!
[singing commences]
Shirt. Shirt. Shirt. Shakin' the shirt.
Shirt. Shirt. Shirt. Shakin' the shirt.
Well, I'm shakin' my shirt all over the place,
But it's been thrown off, back in my face.
[kazoo]
Shirt. Shirt. Shirt. Shakin' the shirt.
New horizons in sound now, as Roger plays a solo on the electric shirt-collar...
[solo, with assorted arduous panting and groaning]
Shirt. Shirt. Shirt. Shakin' the shirt.
Shir..T. Shir..T. Shakin' the shirt.
Oooooo...