John Cooper Clarke The It Man
Look who it isn't, it's, the 'It Man' maybe.
The physical description fits, 'It Man' baby.
You had a Julia Ceaser haircut,
Middle market leisure wear,
but don't let him be your teddy bear...
could be 'It Man' ...baby
You want women, wall-to-wall
'It Man' got.
Meet the man who started it all,
'It Man' got.
What's it to to be then John?
A brunetto, or a bleeding blonde?
The tell-tale tongue of a two-ton taste bomb,
Is the kiddy coming on?
Like the 'It Man' baby.
Take the sugar. Dump the crumbs.
It's a mugs game.
Take some bugger for a lump sum,
and bugger off to Spain.
An endless stream of fizzy drinks for 'It Man.'
Who's dentures gleam like sovereign cuff-links,
'It Man' baby
Who drove the van?
Some all purpose also ran.
When the shit hits the fan,
Who's gonna carry the can?
For 'It-man.'
He's after all your stuff
His motto is... 'receive.'
Too much is not enough now,
Let's not be naive
Drip-dry, zip-fly, 'It Man.'
Kiss the girls and make them die, 'It Man' baby
Underneath that yellow shirt,
Beats a heart of solid dirt
The most disgusting man on earth, 'It Man' baby.
No back chat was ever written
for It Man's 'tart.'
The cute cat or the stiff kitten,
'It Man' took her apart.
He shook away the poison pen,
Next thing... 'News-at-Ten.'
Ladies and Gentlemen... 'It Man'
Well well, bloody hell, 'It Man.'
Checking you out and ringing your bell,
You better quit man.
He's walking around, taking names
Looking for money in the burnt remains,
All stories finish in flames for 'It Man.'
'It Man.'
'It Man' baby
