Nice man George, newsagent on the corner   Not very rich, but never any poorer   Jaunty old George, a happy sixty-three   Not very tall, but healthier than me   He whistles timeless tunes   As he saunters down the street   Springs in his legs and elastic in his feet      But in the middle of the night   He steals through your garden   Gives your hosiery a fright   And doesn't say pardon      As soft as a breeze   With an arm full of underwear   On his hands and knees   Dreams about the knicker scare      Hello there George, newsagent on the corner   How's the old car, yes the climate's getting warmer   Chatty old George as you get your morning paper   Read about the knicker thief, underwear taker   Bids you "Good day", as you wander out the door   Never closes early, always cleans the floor      But when darkness hits the town   And there's washing on your line   Get your knickers down   Before the dreaded sign      When the clock strikes eight   And you're snuggled up in bed   He'll be at the garden gate   Filling underwear with dread      Nice man George, newsagent on the corner   He was closed today, maybe gone to mow the lawn   I had to go further down the road to get me current bun   "Hello isn't that George on page one?"   No it couldn't be, but yes it is   Difficult to see from these photofits      But they are after him   Of that you can be sure   They've called him on the phone   They've knocked on his door      But he's gone away   Gone to stay with some mates   He got the papers early   And saw his own face