He'll get you more than your ration book will
Leg ... made out of parachute silk
Proper sheer stockings no need to use tea
Tobacco and whiskey, it's all duty free
If you ask him nicely he'll forge your degree
You know his diploma's a photocopy
But he can't be black market 'cause his spats are too white
Besides he just seems so nice
Well it sounds like the truth
'Cause he says it so smooth
But you know you can't stick it
That's one sticky wicket
And he deals with poachers
And counterfeit broaches
He'll con you as long as you live
Oh you'll never outsmart the Spiv
Well please don't get drawn in, 'cause it's all a ruse
From the tip of his trilby to his shiny shoes
As soon as you see him you ought to beware
You should never trust someone with such tidy hair
And everything he has is part of his moot
He picked up his morals at a car boot
With a counterfeit character he bought off a man
And a background that fell off the back of a van
Well it sounds like the truth
'Cause he says it so smooth
But you know you can't stick it
That's one sticky wicket
And he deals with poachers
And counterfeit broaches
He'll con you as long as you live
Oh you'll never outsmart the Spiv
To see a man's soul you should look at his feet
They say squeaky shoes are a sign of deceit
And his heart may look golden but it's not bona fide
If you break it there's steel inside
And I should know 'cause I've tried
And there'll never be a penitentiary
That's capable of keeping him inside