COOKHOUSE SERENADE
As recorded by George Formby, 11-Oct-1942.

Now Jimmy Jones he came home from camp, you know; and he walked with a military swing.
He did look well; he said: "Army life, why, it was great, except for just one thing."

Mama used to say: "Please peel those potatoes."
Did I peel potatoes? No!
Now the sergeant yells: "Hey, peel those potatoes!"
And I peel, I peel, I peel, I peel, I peel, I peel, I peel.
Grandma used to say: "Please slice those tomatoes."
Did I slice tomatoes? No!
Now the corporal yells: "Hey, slice those tomatoes!"
And I slice, I slice, I slice, I slice, I slice, slice, slice, slice, slice.
My uniform is an apron; I'm learnin' to cook and bake.
Now when I get out o' the army, what a wonderful wife I'll make!
Papa used to say: "Please sweep up the kitchen."
Did I sweep the kitchen? No!
Now the captain yells: "Hey, sweep up the kitchen!"
(He sweeps, he sweeps, he sweeps, he sweeps.)
That's the cookhouse serenade.

Father used to say: "Please stick up a notice."
Did I stick the notice? No!
Now the sergeant yells: "Hey, stick up that notice!"
And I stick, I stick, I stick, I wish he'd stick it up himself!
When a girl asks for a lift in the rollo(?),
Do you think I refuse her? No!
And she likes the way I handle the chassis,
And the clutch I clutch with nimble touch; I clutch, I clutch, I clutch.
When I was cleanin' me windows, I would look in to see who's who.
Now the only thing that I look in is a saucepan of army stew.
Teacher said: "What shall we do with you, Georgie?"
Did I tell the teacher? No!
Now the cook says: "What shall we do with the porridge?"
So I tell him what to do with it.
That's the cookhouse serenade.

Now I told my girl I'd keep off the ladies.
Did I keep me promise? No!
When she wrote: "What have they got that I've not got?"
I replied: "Oh, now, but, dear, they've got it here; they've got it here."
In the army sometimes you'll hear 'em swearin'.
Do you hear me swearin'? No!
But the things I think concernin' the sergeant,
He's an [*], he's an [*], he's an [*], he's an [*], he's an [*], he's an [*], he's an [*].
My uniform is an apron; I'm learnin' to cook and bake.
Now when I get out of the army, what a wonderful wife I'll make!
In the laundry they say: "Please press all the blouses."
Did I press the blouses? No!
Now the ATS say: "Will you press all our blouses?"
And I press, I press, I press, I press.
That's the cookhouse serenade.


[*] represents a one-syllable donkey [or ass] braying sound.
ATS, pronounced "ats," Auxiliary Territorial Service, the women's branch of the British Army from 1938 to 1949.