(I'm not cheating)

Oooh, oooh
Everything is Dinky Doo
Everything you do
You, the king of La-Di-Da
Pretty very out far
Never oversits, he understands
Like the back of the hand
He should sing in a band, oh yeah

Oooh, oooh
People think he's Loopey Loo
And when they look at his shoes
He's a rocking sausage roll
He gets it in the goal
Healthy little brown affair
And when he washes his hair
He'll get a round or a square
Get them singing

Oooh, oooh
Everyone from Oxford town
Way down to the Rio Grande

Knows his harbour quays
His skin tight hands, without seggs
His name is Legs

Oooh, oooh
Coolies sweating in Hong Kong
Run along to the Mardi Grass

Risking asian flu to meet the man
Who lays the eggs
His name is Legs

He's a cure for whooping cough
And if the going gets rough
Get lined up, come Sikh, come Czar
No matter who you are
We could get along and slide a rule
And if you don't play fools
While Larry plays pool
You'll hear him singing

Oooh, oooh
Oooh, oooh