for Cheryl Morrison
When from ’ouse to ’ouse you’re ’untin’ you must always work in pairs-
It ’alves the gain, but safer you will find-
For a single man gets bottled on them twisty-wisty stairs.
An’ a woman comes and clobs ’im from be’ind.
When you’ve turned ’em inside out, an’ it seems beyond a doubt
As if there weren’t enough to dust a flute
(Cornet: Toot! toot!)-
Before you sling your ’ook, at the ’ouse-tops take a look,
For it’s underneath the tiles they ’ide the loot.
(Chorus.) ’Ow the loot!
Bloomin’ loot!
That’s the thing to make the boys git up an’ shoot!
It’s the same with dogs an’ men,
If you’d make ’em come again
Clap ’em forward with a Loo! loo! Lulu!
Loot!
Whoopee! Tear ’im, puppy! Loo! loo! Lulu!
Loot! loot! Loot!
– Rudyard Kipling
“Loot”