I wish there was something profound to say about the lyrics that follow.

Alas, there is not.

It is, quite simply, a juvenile song about big tits. It's damn catchy though. The tune (for the most part) follows the melody and rhythm of the song Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick by Ian Dury (of Ian Dury and the Blockheads), except that the tempo is about 25% faster and has various mild sound effects. There's a bit toward the end that switches to the tune "Cars" by Gary Numan, which I've marked below for you, then it switches smartly back to the Rhythm Stick tune.

The song - or rather the lyrics - were written by Ivor Biggun who also penned such musical wonders as The Wanker's Song and Hide the Sausage. This song appeared on the album entitled The Fruity Bits of Ivor Biggun, the cover of which was violated by an image of a banana strategically placed between two oranges so that the fruit collection resembles male genitalia. This song is officially entitled "Bras On 45", which is a play on the Beatles medley entitled Stars On 45 which was popular around the time this song was released.

It was, at one time, a fan favorite on the Dr. Demento show, in company with songs like Dead Puppies Aren't Much Fun and Kinko the Clown. It might still be a favorite, but I haven't been able to listen to Dr. Demento for nearly 15 years, so I can't vouch for that.


By: Ivor Biggun & the D Cups

Bra size forty-five, Bra size forty-five,
Bra size forty-five, Bra size forty-five

Well I went out for a boogie, a week ago last Tuesday
I was doing the Wiggin Hustle and the Palais Glide
I met a girl in big suspenders and her boswams were stupendous
Like two bald-headed men sitting side by side

She wore a bra size forty-five, and she could jump and jive
And when she stopped dancing, bits of her kept wobbling about
She said you drive me crazy, burn some rubber on me Baby
She grabbed my little whistle and she began to shout...

Hit me with your rhythm stick, Hit me, Hit me
Je t'adore, Ich liebe Dich, Hit me, Hit me, Hit me
Hit me with your rhythm stick, I'm six feet tall and five feet thick
Hit me, Hit me, Hit me...

Bra size forty-five, Bra size forty-five

I couldn't do nothing but stand and stare, she gave me a hug like a grizzly bear
I couldn't see much, I thought I was dead, I had boobs upside my head
Boobs upside my head, boobs upside my head

Oh what a front she had, enough for me, my brother and Dad
A chest of drawers no doubt, one with the top drawer half pulled out
Oh what a front she'd got, believe me son, she's got the lot
Right before my eyes, and she was bra size forty-five

Erm, excuse me, what do I do now?
Man be cool - gotta get down and have a rap
I beg your pardon? I think I'll do a talking bit instead...

She was the big economy size, her boswams were gigantic
Like two fat little boys, wrestling under a blanket
The flickering strobes lit up the globes that thrust from her pullover
I think her name was June 'cause she was busting out all over

She said, "Can you feel the force, do y'wanna take one step beyond?"
I said, "Goodness gracious great balls of fire, there's a whole lotta shaking going on"
She said, "Knock on wood, I'll blame it on the boogie, now what do ya think about that?"
I said, "Ooh heck, it must be jelly, because jam don't shake like that"

Not so much of the night fever, more like a belt with a tire lever
She was not at all pendulous, in fact she was tremendulous!

Bra size forty-five, Bra size forty-five,
Bra size forty-five, Bra size forty-five

She wore a bra size forty-five, and when they played "I will survive"
She went crackers, and her animal desires became much keener
She said "John I'm only dancing, but I'd rather be romancing"
She had me inside out and upside down in the back of my Cortina

Hit me with your rhythm stick...

Tune switches to Cars by Gary Numan

And there in my car, the windows all steamed, and my throat on her chin
She let it all hang out in bras (size forty-five)
And there in my car, I thought "this is it", an instant replay,
My foot out the window in bras (size forty-five)

Oo-rah, Oo-rah, Oo-rah, ay,
Over the hills and now I'm on my way
I got out my tent pole and shooter
Oo-rah, Oo-rah, Oo-rah, ay,
Over the hills and now I'm on my way
Come on, let's do the Bristol Stomp

Back to Hit me with your Rhythm Stick

She wore a bra size forty-five, I thought I never would revive
When I tackled that young lady with the bounciest of blouses
But she left me for a geezer who had much more chance to please her
With his own master blaster and a pair of baggy trousers

Oh what fun they had...

Bra size forty-five, Bra size forty-five,
Bra size forty-five, Bra size forty-five

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