Текст песни

Here comes Bob just the same as every day

In his top hat and tails busy cycling away

On an old-fashioned bike with an old-fashioned name

Shaking his bones down the cobblestone lanes

Nobody knows where he goes or where he's been

But he keeps ploughing on as if he's lost in a dream

We shout "Mad Bob!" but he never replies

He just mutters an obscenity and narrows his eyes

Bob

Constantly

Bob

He's Dickensian

Bob

Constantly

Bob

The vicar once said he was a prisoner of war

And that he suffered in the head from all the things that he saw

He could have been the admiral of a submarine fleet

Or a debonair spy of the Russian elite

So don't take the Jimmy nor Bane or Jeer

'Cause he might not be what he first may appear

But old man Bob, you know he couldn't give a toss

For the vicar, the kids or anyone else

Bob

Constantly

Bob

He's Dickensian

Bob

Constantly

Bob

One afternoon I saw him riding along

So I plucked up the courage to sing him this song

I sang "Oh Bob, tell me what went wrong

You've been riding on your bike now for ever so long"

I ran along singing "Where on earth do you go?

I'm telling you, Mad Bob, 'cause we all want to know"

He slowed right down until he came to a halt

Then he fixed me with a stare like a lightning bolt

He said "I've never stopped riding in more than twenty a year

But the sound of that song made me come out clear"

He started to giggle and he lifted his hat

He said "You see, dear boy, I'm as mad as a bat

I couldn't say why I've been riding this bike

But my legs are a-killing and I could do with a pint"

So this little song lifted old Bob's curse

It wasn't that good but it could have been worse

Bob

Constantly

Bob

He's Dickensian

Bob

Constantly

Bob

He's Dickensian