I was getting my tools together to go
Window cleaning
When I noticed a pair of tights in my ladder
How did they get there I thought
I have no explanation
Had I lent my ladders to John, the cross-dressing, transvestite window cleaner?
No, that was last week, he had given them back, ladderless
Tight-ass the builder also borrowed them
He could have got his tight ass stuck in them
But did he wear tights?
The plot thickened, and so did my porridge as I stirred it and pondered
Pondered and stirred it
Then it hit me, there was that lad the other week, he had borrow it for his
Amatuer dramatic show, they had been building the scenery and erecting
and painting the backdrop
Aladdin tights, that was it, a cross between the Arabian nights and Billie Eliot
So in the end he had a ladder in his tights,
And I had his tights in my ladder,
The mystery was solved
