May I cut your silhouette, Sir?
Immortalise your bust, Madam?
May I render your luverly children in black?
And, if they're a bit fidgety, give them a smack?
I'm so lately ill at ease.

Oh, Officer please, Officer please
There will be hell to pay
If you don't take…
Officer please
…Take my scissors away.

For years and years and donkey's years
I've practised here, here on the pier.
Superior portraits in shadow, with feeling,
But no-one now wants their physiognomy revealing.
Anyone would think I had a vile disease

Oh, Officer please, Officer please
There will be hell to pay
If you don't take…
Officer please
…Take my scissors away.

It's the fault of the photographers, yes,
Those pornographers, damn them! So crass.
"Are you watching the dickie-bird? Say - Cheese!" And SNAP!
Where's the bloody, fucking skill in that?
I'm so lately ill at ease.

Oh, Officer please, Officer please
There will be hell to pay
If you don't take…
Officer please
…Take my scissors away.

Please take my scissors away…
Away… Away… Away…
Please take my scissors away…
Away… Away… Away…

Take them away….

Take me away…
Away… Away… Away…