Like a tall thin girl

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?