My hair’s a tangled, icky mess,
My beard grows all askew.
My shirt’s untucked; my frilly dress
Has coffee-stains…a few.

I need to wash and brush my stuff
My body I must cleanse!
For if I don’t, Inspector Dan
Will spy dirt with his lens

And wallop me till kingdom come
His will be done on me.
And so I’ll take a bath: my first
Since 1983!

Though I do mind his interfer-
Ence, I cannot blame Dan.
He only wants to do his job;
I’ll help him, if I can.

And with the help of Mrs Pearce
(To Shaw’s play I allude),
I’ll burn these clothes and scrub real fierce;
There’s no need to be rude.

So, soon I’ll be presentable!
Inspector Dan, hang on!
My unkempt guise I now shall doff,
before I cut the lawn.