| Lyrics: | Who's got the toughest brush with the sweetest strokes at the Royal Academy for
Jack-the-lademy?
Mr. Blake is the actual bloke at the Royal College of Useful Knowledge
He
plays his part without complaint at the Royal Society for Insobriety
Gets his pencils and his
paint from the Royal Commission for Intuition
It's not a fake it's a Peter Blake
It's
navy blue, it's crimson lake
It takes the cake and no mistake,
For goodness' sake take a
look at those Blakes
Who's paintings brighten any day, who draws each breath from loving
life?
Who's golden beard and black beret, who's sharper than a palette knife?
He
treasures every mortal scrap at the Royal Borough of Extremely Thorough
Peter Blake is the
actual chap at the Royal Enclosure of Cool Composure
And such nice beauties do impart from the
Royal Exchange of Rare and Strange
The wonders of his noble art at the Royal Tournament of Glad
You're Born-ament
It's not a cheat, it's one of Pete's
It's Daisy darling, Libby
sweet
To ease you mind and soothe your aches,
For goodness' sake take a look at those
Blakes
It's Peter the painter
It's Peter the painter
It's Peter the
painter
It's Peter the painter
It's Peter the painter
It's Peter the painter
Peter
is going to paint a picture - for you
It's Siriol the she-devil of naked madness, Wynken
Blynken |
