The Tichborne Claimant - The Lucksmiths

Big and fat, here he comes

All his fingers look like thumbs

Mother dearest, look who’s here

It’s your long-lost loving son

Brush aside your fears

Look: he’s got his uncle’s ears

So he’s a little fatter — it doesn’t matter

A lot can happen in eleven years

And inside every fat man

Is another man who’s thin

Even his own mother wouldn’t recognise him

Why the dickens should I believe him

Has he given me one good reason?

Of course he hasn’t

If he’s the heir apparent

Appearances can be deceiving

Names are not important

Sir Roger Tichborne or Arthur Orton

From stealing cattle to an aristocrat

He’ll sell his soul to claim his fortune

And outside every thin man

Is another man who’s fat

Only a mother could love a face like that