Some bloke came up to me and he said
When I'm cleaning windows
He winked his * in and out
He made his balls inflate
Do they resemble the giant clothes that stand at the garden gate?
Yeah, what have you had in your land?
Oh, you are awful
But I like you
John Thomas Alcock, he had gigantic genitalia
He lived next door to mother, then he boogered off to Australia
And nine months later, I was born and the midwife Upton said
Shall I tie a knot in his belly button cord or else in this instead?
I never ever looked like father
I scarcely ever looked like mother
And I was an outcast in my home
Everybody say ah
Ah
London, New York, Paris, Wigan
Everybody talk about I, the bigot
I wandered lonely as a clod
Where folks could never find me
With several yards of pork clarinet
Trailing on the ground behind me
But then in a gentoo rhino
In 1979
I caught a glimpse of a donger
With a birthmark just like mine
Oh, I was an outcast in my home
Alcock's the name its owner said
But you can call me John
Remember me to mother
I said probably I'm the son
Of the man with the biggest plonker in the world
He keeps it in his trousers tightly curled
It's a yard and a half if it's an inch
And it's more when it's unfurled
Oh, oh, he's the man with the biggest plonker in the world
John Thomas Alcock
He had a five foot seven incher
And I've inherited five foot six
And balls like a Doberman pincher
Though I don't look like daddy
Or the milkman or the lodger
I can match John Thomas
In dimensions of the nodger
And light my pot before me
When dirty deeds are done
The girls line up each morning
For the rising of the son
Of the man with the biggest plonker in the world
John Thomas Alcock
He keeps it in his trousers tightly curled
It's a yard and a half if it's an inch
And it's more when it's unfurled
Oh, oh, he's the man with the biggest plonker in the world
John Thomas Alcock
Just like John Thomas Alcock
I really am the ladies treat
Cause though I only have two hands
I use only one hand





I usually swing several feet
And following father's footsteps down
The path that he once trod
I have outstanding trousers
And a job with dino rod
Impressions of an elephant
Watch me pick up that bun
They call me Ivor Biggan
But really I'm the son
Of the man with the biggest plonker in the world
He keeps it in his trousers tightly curled
It's a yard and a half if it's an inch
And it's more when it's unfurled
Oh, oh, he's the man with the biggest plonker in the world
John Thomas Alcock
He died, he did, and it seems to me
That all what I inherited
Is slapping down below my navel
Still I see him in my dreams
With trousers chock-a-block
Pole vaulting around his bedroom
And tripping over his cot
In his last willy and testicle
He said my race is run
But girls beware of that * there
Who reckons he's the son
Of the man with the biggest plonker in the world
He keeps it in his trousers tightly curled
It's a yard and a half if it's an inch
And it's more when it's unfurled
Oh, oh, he's the man with the biggest plonker in the world
He's the man with the biggest plonker
What an enormous stonker
He's the man with the biggest plonker in the world