Well, I don't care to eat out in smart restaurants
I'd rather do a Vindaloo: take away is what I want
I was down at the old Bengal, having telephoned a treat
When I saw her framed in the kitchen door
She looked good enough to eat
(And I mean eat.)
She was a tall thin girl
She looked like a tall thin girl
She said, Whose is this carry-out?
My face turned chilli red
Well, I don't know about carrying out
But you can carry me off to bed
(And I mean bed.)
She was a tall thin girl
She moved like a tall thin girl
Maybe I can fetch for it
And maybe I can stretch for it

I may not be a fat man and I'm not exactly small
But when it all comes down, couldn't stand my ground
This girl was tall
(And I mean tall.)

Big boy Doane, he's a drummer. Don't play no tambourine
But he's Madras hot on the bongo trot
If you know just what I mean
Stands six foot three in his underwear;
Going to get him down here and see
If this good lady's got a little sister 'bout the same size as me
She was a tall thin girl
She looked like a tall thin girl
Well, can I fetch for it?
Well, maybe I can stretch for it?
Well, am I up for it? Or do I have to go down for it?