Uncle Ernie: I’m your wicked Uncle Ernie;
I’m glad you won’t see or hear me,
As I fiddle about, fiddle about, fiddle about.
Your mother left me here to mind you,
And I’m doing exactly what I bleedin’ well want to,
Fiddling about, fiddling about, fiddle about.
Down with your bedclothes,
Up with your nightshirt.
Fiddle about, fiddle about, fiddle about.
You won’t «shite»
As I fiddle «abite.»
Fiddle about, fiddle about, fiddle about.
