Guess what it is I'm holding
Down here in my hand
It's given pleasure to millions
Both up and down the land
It's my little ukulele
My treasure and my joy
I've plonked and plucked it daily
Ever since I was a boy
I practice and I practice
That right hand rhythm routine
And now I've got an action like
A massage parlour queen
But nobody does it like the Ukulele Man
No-one can hit that spot
If he can't make you smile
Then no-one can
He's the original
From way back yonder
When it all began
Nobody does it like the Ukulele Man
I've such co-ordination
In my fingers and my thumb
An action learned from years of sitting
Down to have a strum
My right hand goes like billy-o
Up top my left one fiddles
Performing archipelagos and flams
And paradiddles
I stroll into the spotlight
I give the strings a clout
But when I start to warble
The people start to shout
"Where's George?"
Nobody does it like the Ukulele Man
No-one can hit that spot
If he can't make you smile
Then no-one can
Just leaning on the lamp
Or TT racing at the Isle Of Man
Nobody does it like the Ukulele Man
I like a bit of blues and boogie, like a bit of skiffle and soul
But what I love's
A little stick of Blackpool rock-rock-rock 'n' roll
When women idolise me
I always have to tell 'em
Stop poking at me plectrums and
Don't violate me vellum
And though my technique thrills them
I have never worked out why
The end of my performance
They always seem to sigh
"Oh, is that all? Don't I get an encore?"
Nobody does it like the Ukulele Man
No-one can hit that spot
If he can't make you smile
Then no-one can
He's window cleaning with
His eyes on Fanlight Fanny's fan
Nobody does it like the Ukulele Man
"I've got crate of his 78's and I'm his greatest fan"