As I thought I might, I've ended up having two singable verses - the one in the last post, which fits the original tune, and this one which has changed things round a bit, not that much, but it felt more comfortable for my way of singing. (In my last verse I had the father coming home a bit more dcruffy than Giovanni's - I hope that's all right):

And here is a link to a RealAudio streaming sound file of this version:

On a dull grey empty morning, here in the prison yard,
There's a cold wind blows acros the camp, enough to freeze the heart.
But in the country of the sun, all is bright and warm,
Sitting on her tiny chair, Carlotta waits alone.
Mamma has promised "Cross my heart, Papa is coming home,
Some day he's coming home, he'll soon be coming home
And you'll be waiting here for him, you'll be as good as gold,
Watch out for him, you'll see him when he comes."

So sitting on her balcony Carlotta's looking out
Is "Papa" coming soon, this man she's never met?
She's just a little worried, it is all a little much,
She chews her baby bottle, and gives a sigh.

"Who knows what he'll be like?
This oh so famous man who married my Mamma.
Perhaps he'll have a moustache, perhaps he'll have a beard,
A pipe, a cane, and spectacles, that dangle on a cord..."

The sun's set on the city now, blue twilight's all around.
You'll not see him today, in prison he is bound.
The little eyes are drooping now, "Tomorrow he'll be here,
So, goodbye, baby bottle…" and she's asleep

The prison camp's deserted now, it's useless, amd it's dead
The huts and towers are empty now, the guards they all have fled
But in the country of the sun, all is bright and warm,
Sitting on her balcony, Carlotta waits alone.
Mamma she promised "Cross my heart, Papa is coming home,
Some day he's coming home, he'll soon be coming home
And you'll be waiting here for him, you'll be as good as gold,
Watch out for him, you'll see him when he comes."

So sitting on her balcony Carlotta's looking out
Is "Papa" coming soon, this man she's never met?
She's just a little tired, it's been so very long,
She bites her lip, and gives another sigh

"Who knows what he'll be like?
This oh so famous man who married my Mamma.
Perhaps he'll have a moustache, perhaps he'll have a beard,
A pipe, a cane, and spectacles, that dangle on a cord..."

And then around the corner comes a soldier from the war
A ragged knapsack on his back, and on his breast a star
His jacket's torn and tattered, but his buttons shine like gold:
Papa is home. Papa has won the war.

"Who knows what he'll be like?
This not so famous man who married my Mamma.
I see he's a moustache, I see he's got a beard,
A pipe, a cane, and spectacles, that dangle on a cord..."

Mamma she promised "Cross my heart, Papa is coming home,
Some day he's coming home, he'll soon be coming home
And you'll be waiting here for him, you'll be as good as gold,
Watch out for him, you'll see him when he comes."

December 2003