Ode to Danny Dyer

You was out of town Danny, yeh
We'd been casing your gaff, if you wanna know
So, when you was at that new ballet
We've broke in – through your flipping patio

Me ’an Tom was well-impressed
By the stuff what was on your shelves
Your lovely cushions, ’an them coverlets
Sorry blood, we've only ’elped ourselves!

That giant-screen telly ain't no toy
It's pukah. We’ve ’ad to ’ave a go
Now, it's in Cash Converters, bruv
Wiv your guitar, ’an your stereo

We put some music on
’An we danced around like fools
Tom got tearful then
It does that to ’im, that Glenn Gould

I fink we liked your bedroom best
To be honest, we was in there for hours
Tom was enchanted by your prints
He must've tried all of your massage oils

E's only gone into the walk-in dressing room
Next fing, e's in the Coco Chanel
So what if you wear women's clothes
A lot of us do. It's only natural!

Nice motor you got there, the Clio
The pink one, what's under a sheet
It's a lady's car, yeh, but it ain't no shame
It's good for blokes wiv small feet!

It got us back to the smoke
Then we've torched it, on the estate!
When you're down this way, give us a call
Me ’an Tom love your work, Danny mate