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Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee

DigiTrad:
ALBERT AND THE LION
ARKANSAS FLYERS
ASPARAGUS.
GOODBYE


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Monologue John 03 Sep 22 - 10:56 AM
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Subject: ADD: Somebody Would Shout Out Shop (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 10:56 AM

R P Weston and Bert Lee met in 1915 at the London Offices of Frances Day and Hunter and agreed to work together R P Weston was a cockney and lived in Twickenham Bert Lee was from Raventhorpe near Dewsbury Yorkshire He moved into the house in Twickenham and they worked together
for over twenty years

This one was written in 1915 for Stanley Kirkby and Harry Hudson

SOMEBODY WOULD SHOUT OUT SHOP
AKA        
Lyrics        Weston and Lee        Music        Weston and Lee        Roud        21924
Music Hall Performers         Stanley Kirkby & Harry Hudson 1915
Folk performances        Source singers
Albert “Wicketts” Richardson, 1964, Suffolk, England


Ebenezer Johnson kept a grocery store
He'd a little lady that he used to adore
She would call around in the afternoon
In his small back parlour they would sit and spoon
He would entertain her in a lover-like way
But here is the mystery
Though he hadn't taken any money all day
The minute she sat on his knee.

Somebody would shout out shop
Somebody would shout out shop
Just as he was kissing her and making good
Somebody would come in for a bundle of wood
Just as he was giving Mabel a squeeze
Somebody would come in for a quarter of cheese
Oh gee, it makes him feel so funny
He'd clean forget to take the money
Back he'd go again and try to cuddle his honey
And somebody would shout out shop, shop, shop
Somebody would shout out shop.

In the middle of a moment really sublime,
In would come a customer to ask him the time
Back he'd go once more and say, "Darn the shop!"
Once again the question he'd try to pop
He would softly whisper in her dear little ear
"Oh marry me, Mabel, do!"
Then she'd hear a customer and answer, "No fear!"
If I went honeymooning with you..

Somebody would shout out shop
Somebody would shout out shop
Just as he was kissing her and making good
Somebody would come in for a bundle of wood
Just as he was giving Mabel a squeeze
Somebody would come in for a quarter of cheese
Oh gee, it makes him feel so funny
He'd clean forget to take the money
Back he'd go again and try to cuddle his honey
And somebody would shout out shop, shop, shop
Somebody would shout out shop.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GUEST,Hootenanny
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 01:46 PM

Cockney from Twickenham ???

Any idea where he was born? I knew some Westons from Bethnal Green and Bow.


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Subject: ADD: Swim Sam, Swim (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 04:27 PM

SWIM SAM, SWIM
(R P Weston & Bert Lee)

Once I was a sailor, a sailor big and broad.
I shipped aboard a whaler, and tumbled overboard.
I shouted: 'Someone save me! 'Someone said: 'Go hang!
The sharks are sniffing round you.' Then my shipmates sang:

CHORUS:
'Swim Sam swim!
Show them you're some swimmer!
Swim just like a swan Sam!
You know how the swan swam.
Six sharp sharks are going to snap your limbs.
So swipe them swiftly when they swoop
And swim Sam swim!'

So I swam with vigour; the race had just begun.
Sharks all eyed my figure; 'All jelly,' shouted one.
Some old portly porpoise popped up in the foam;
Shouted: 'If you want to catch your last train home,

CHORUS:
Swim Sam swim!
Show them you're some swimmer!
Swim just like a swan Sam!
You know how the swan swam.
Six sharp sharks are going to snap your limbs.
So swipe them swiftly when they swoop
And swim Sam swim!'

Sharks all heard the chorus and said while in the brine,
Ragtime did it for us, but by gum this is fine!'
They fluttered with their esses until they got lockjawed,
So then I left them singing as I climbed on board:
CHORUS:
Swim Sam swim!
Show them you're some swimmer!
Swim just like a swan Sam!
You know how the swan swam.
Six sharp sharks are going to snap your limbs.
So swipe them swiftly when they swoop
And swim Sam swim!

CHORUS:
Swim Sam swim Sam swim!
Show them you're some swimmer!
Swim like a snow-white swan Sam!
You know how the swan swam.
Six sharp shivering sharks are going to snap your limbs.
So a well-swum swim is a swim well swum.
 


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GUEST,henryp
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 05:37 PM

Hoot - Weston's real name was Robert Harris (1878 – 6 November 1936), and he was born in Kingsbury Road, Islington, very close to Dalston Junction. His father ran a grocery shop and the family lived over it. Harris became a railway clerk (as listed in the 1911 Census), but took up performing and song writing. At this time, he was living at 46 Hemmingford Road in Islington with his wife Maud. After Robert Weston's death, the house was occupied by Weston's two daughters who lived there into old age, with Weston and Lee's papers sitting untouched and unlooked-at. PeoplePill


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GUEST,Hootenanny
Date: 04 Sep 22 - 05:30 AM

Henry P

Thanks very much for that. I know Hemingford (only one M) Road very well having played music in the Hemingford Arms for 29 years) also have distant family connections who lived at 87.

So Twickenham appears to be an error and I guess describing him as a Cockney would be questionable as one would be most unlikely to have been able to hear the sound of Bow Bells from Islington/Dalston.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 04 Sep 22 - 07:01 AM

Robert Harris was R P Weston's birth name he was born in Islington


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Subject: ADD: My Meatless Days (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 05:33 AM

The second verse would be racist today but it does reflect the times they lived in

MY MEATLESS DAYS
Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1917
Performed by Ernie Mayne (1871-1937)


Just a day each week it's true. I help to win the war I do
I don't sell flags around the street, I go without my bits of meat
And when I pass the butcher's shop and hear 'em shout, 'bye-bye'
I pull my belt up four more holes and sadly I reply,

It's my meatless day, my meatless day, I'm not going to eat
Any sort of meat, meat, meat, meat, meat
I'm thin and pale, all I've put away
Is four quarts of mussels, five loaves of bread,
Nine pairs of kippers and a big cod's head
Five tins of salmon and I feel half dead
'Cos it's my meatless day.

Last night I wandered through the park I met a lady after dark
And feeling faint for want of food I fell into her arms (how rude)
Then she murmured, 'Kiss me George.' Her face I chanced to see
Well the girl was black, with negro lips so I shouted, 'Not for me'

Oh It's my meatless day, my meatless day, I'm not going to eat
Any sort of meat, meat, meat, meat, meat
I'm thin and pale, all I've put away
Is two rolly polly's, (never left a crumb),
Three currant puddings and a little bit of plum
Five apple dumplings are a-rolling round my tum
'Cos it's my meatless day.

As a farmer's boy I worked near York. The day the pig died we had pork
Next day the old cow died and we had beef for breakfast, dinner and tea
We had mutton when the sheep pegged out, and we all got over fed
Next day the farmer's missus died, so I went up and said

Here, it's my meatless day, my meatless day, I'm not going to eat
Any sort of meat, meat, meat, meat, meat
I'm thin and pale, all I've put away
Is five pound of taters that I had to thieve
A vegetable marrow as long as me sleeve
A jar of pickled onions you can tell when I breathe
It's my meatless day.
 


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Subject: ADD: Paddy Mc Ginty's Goat (Weston & Lee & 2 Bobs)
From: Monologue John
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 05:49 AM

PADDY McGINTY'S GOAT
 Written and composed by The Two Bobs with R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1917
Performed by The Two Bobs

Mister Patrick McGinty, an Irishman of note
Came into a fortune, so bought himself a goat
Said he, 'Sure, of goat's milk I mean to have my fill
But when he got his nanny home he found it was a bill.

Refrain: And now all the ladies who live in Killaloo
Are all wearing bustles like their mothers used to do
They each wear a bolster beneath the petticoat
And leave the rest to providence and Paddy Mc Ginty's goat.

Missis Burke to her daughter said, 'Listen Mary Jane
Now who was the man you were cuddling in the lane
He'd long wiry whiskers all hanging from his chin.'
'Twas only Pat McGinty's goat,' she answered with a grin.

Refrain: Then she went away from the village in disgrace
She came back with powder and paint upon her face
She'd rings on her fingers and she wore a sable coat
You bet your life they never came from Paddy McGinty's goat.

Little Nora McCarthy the knot was going to tie
She washed all her trouseau and hung it out to dry
Then up came the goat and saw the bits of white
He chewed up all her falderals, and on her wedding night,

Refrain: 'Oh turn out the gas quick,' she shouted out to Pat
'For though I'm your bride, sure I'm not worth looking at
I've got two of everything I told you when I wrote
But now I've one of nothing all through Padyy McGinty's goat.

Mick Riley he went to the races t'other day
He won twenty dollars and shouted 'Hip- Hooray.'
He held up the note shouting 'Look at what I've got.'
The goat came up and grabbed at it and swallowed all the lot

Refrain: 'He's eaten my banknote,' said Micky with the hump
They ran for the doctor, he brought a stomach pump
He pumped and he pumped for that twenty dollar note
But all he got was ninepence out of Paddy McGinty's goat.

Sure, but ould Paddy's goat had a wondrous appetite
And one day for breakfast he had some dynamite
A big box of matches then he swallowed all serene
Then out he went and swallowed up a quart of paraffin.

Refrain: He sat by the fireside and didn't care a hang
He swallowed a spark, and then exploded with a bang
And when you go to heaven you can bet a dollar note
The angel who has the whiskers on is Paddy McGinty's goat.


div


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Subject: ADD: The Future Variety Show (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 06:17 AM

THE FUTURE VARIETY SHOW
 Words and music by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1917
Performed by Ernest Hastings


They're going to reform the Variety Show
They say the the songs are a little so-so
No artiste in future must even allude
To girls climbing buses or anything rude.

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
Will be so nice and refined
They'll have to pay people to go
And dear Brother Robey with nose painted white
Will warble that ditty 'My drink's water bright'
Putting plenty of spirit in every night
At the future Variety Show.

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
You'll see the bishops in the stalls
Their faces with pleasure will glow
And sweet Sister Lloyd, our Marie forsooth
Won't ogle the boys and show her gold tooth
And her songs will be written by General Booth
At the future Variety Show.

The future review girl will wear a long gown
With weights at the bottom to keep it well down
And no West End manager ever will dare
To bring on a table with legs that are bare

Refrain: Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
That boy won't shout 'Good-bye Papa'
When the motor refuses to go
He'll be more polite to his Pa, Mister Tate
And his bandy-legged boy I'm requested to state
Won't be allowed 'cos they say he's not straight
At the future Variety Show

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
They're going to tone up everything
And get decent people to go
They'll only have songs of a temperance kind
So Chirgwin will have to bear this in mind
And that Blind Boy of his will have to be blind
At the future Variety Show

Now all married couples who come to the show
Must prove they are married, or else they can't go
And all single pairs they'll divide every night
They'll be boys on the left and girls on the right.

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
Miss Clarice Mayne won't call her husband
'That,' for it's awfully low.
She won't call him 'that.' No, they'll soon stop her games
For there on the programme you'll see both their names
'Twill be Miss Clarice Mayne and her dear husband James
At the future Variety Show.

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
They'll have a choir and organist
To help with the singing, you know
And while they all sing to you hymn fifty eight
The whole of the congregation will stand there in state
While dear Brother Lauder goes round with the plate
At the future Variety Show.


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Subject: ADD: Sergeant Solomon Isaacstein (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 12:46 PM

This post is Anti Semitic however it is also of historical interest

SERGEANT SOLOMON ISAACSTEIN
(I'm The Only Yiddisher Scotsman In The Irish Fusiliers)

Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1916
Performed by Gus Harris


Little Solomon Isaacstein lived down in Petticoat Lane
Until the war, this terrible war
Then off he went and enlisted
In the Black watch. Said he
'I'd rather have the gold watch
For that's the watch for me'
They gave him a khaki suit he loathes
He ran into the street to sell his left off clothes.

Chorus: Sergeant Solomon Isaacstein
He's the friend of the fighting line
Oi, oi, oi, Give three hearty cheers
For the only Jewish Scotsman in the Irish Fusiliers.

Sergeant Solomon built a little pawnshop in the trench
With money lent at ninety percent
He hadn't any three brass balls
To hang out for a sign
So he found three bombs and gilded them
And my word they looked fine
But one of them fell wallop from the chain
And nearly sent him back to Petticoat Lane.

Chorus:Sergeant Solomon Isaacstein
He's the friend of the fighting line
Oi, oi, oi, Give three hearty cheers
For the only Jewish Scotsman in the Irish Fusiliers.


Sergeant Solomon heard them give the order for to charge
He said, 'How much? Please tell me how much?'
A young lieutenant behind him kicked him in his khaki pants
Said he, 'Don't think of money. You've to make the big advance'
Advance upon the Germans he said, 'What!
I wouldn't advance yer ninepence on the lot.'

Chorus:Sergeant Solomon Isaacstein
He's the friend of the fighting line
Oi, oi, oi, Give three hearty cheers
For the only Jewish Scotsman in the Irish Fusiliers.


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Subject: ADD: The Happiest Christmas of All (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 06 Sep 22 - 12:21 PM

Thank you to The British Music Hall Society for these words obtained from The Bodleian Library Oxford

THE HAPPIEST CHRISTMAS OF ALL
(R P Weston and Bert Lee)

        Christmas Wasn't Christmas with the Boys Away
        Many Wives and Mothers Said Last Christmas day
        But they kept on smiling tho their hearts were yearning
        They sang the good old Christmas songs
        They kept the yule log burning
        For while the bells rang out their merry chime
        They seemed to sing this promise all the time

        Chorus
        The happiest Christmas of all will be
        When the boys are home again
        We will know the worth of 'Peace on Earth'
        And We'll sing the old refrain
        'Should auld acquaintance be forgot'
        And the mistletoe will hang in the hall
        And the girls between the kisses and smiles will murmur
        'This is the happiest Christmas of all'

        Round the Christmas tables there'll be smiles of joy
        Ma will gaze so proudly on her soldier boy
        Dad will serve the pudden out and say with quiet laughter
        'This little flag was on the top before the war and after'
        But ma will shed a tear when Uncle Joe Says grace
        'Praise God from whom all blessings flow'
        
        Chorus
        The happiest Christmas of all will be
        When the boys are home again
        We will know the worth of 'Peace on Earth'
        And We'll sing the old refrain
        'Should auld acquaintance be forgot'
        And the mistletoe will hang in the hall
        And the girls between the kisses and smiles will murmur
        'This is the happiest Christmas of all'


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Subject: ADD: Christmas Day in the Workhouse (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 07:55 AM

CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE WORKHOUSE
(Weston and Lee)


2LO - Britain's 2nd radio station which began broadcasting in 1922.


It was Christmas Day in the workhouse,
And dangerous Dan McGrew
Was fighting to rescue the pudding
From a lady that’s known as Lou.

Then up spake one old pauper,
And speaking from *2LO,
He said, “List to the tale of Gungha Din,
The whitest man I know.”

It was the schooner Hesperus.
It was sinking with all hands on shore;
So we wired, “Send the lifeboat from Wigan,
We’ve never had that here before.”

But the brave lifeboat men, sir, at Wigan,
Replied on a postcard,
“No fear!” It’s too far to come to the Goodwins.
Wrap the wreck up and send it on here.”

’Twas a terrible railway disaster (whistle)
When the Scottish Express came with a roar.
It gave a shrill blast on its whistle—
It was Scottish so it wouldn’t give more.

It was then that the accident happened.
They found ’mid the rattle and din
A Scotsman had mislaid his corkscrew
And the cork had been pushed too far in.

We were all marching on to Khartoum, sir,
And we knew by the cannon’s loud booms,
The Sepoys were drawing our gunfire
And Tom Webster was drawing Khartoums.

Then Nelson fell back and he whispered,
“Put my statue in Trafalgar Square,
But tell them to make it look like me;
I don’t want an Epstein affair.

But, see! There’s a man on the glacier;
His nose is turned into an icicle.
Don’t you know him? It’s Walls the ice-cream man,
Riding round with ice-cream on his tricycle.


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Subject: ADD: The Gypsy Warned Me (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 11:01 AM

THE GYPSY WARNED ME
Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1920
Performed by Violet Loraine (1887-1956)

I went to see a gipsy once to learn my future fate
Said she, 'Be very careful when you want to choose a mate.'
So when a young man winked at me, outside the garden gate
I went to see the gipsy once again
I told her how my heart would flutter 'neath his soulful gaze
And when I said, 'This young man has such very taking ways'

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me, 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
He took me in the country once, it really was sublime,
A dragonfly flew down my back, and what a pantomime
For he tried to find out where the flies go in the wintertime
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

An actor stayed at Mother's once, so debonair and smart
In 'The girl who lost her character' he played the villain's part
He told me that he loved me and to him I lost my heart
So I went to see the gipsy once again
I told her of the part he played and what he used to do
She scanned the lines upon my hand, and looking very blue

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
Though in 'The girl who lost her character' he made a hit
I thought he'd buy a wedding ring for me, I must admit
But all the bounder gave me was two tickets for the pit
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

Of marrying a titled gent I'd always had a hope
One night I met Count Zog-it-off, he handed me the 'Dope'
He put the fluence on me then he asked me to elope
So I went to see the gipsy once again
I told her of Count Zog-it-off and how he'd been so kind
Said she, 'You get some Zog, my dear, and Zog it off your mind'

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
At two o' clock next morning there I met Count Zog-it-off
Said he 'The carriage waits my dear' I heard a lady cough
'Twas his wife and fourteen children all come round to see him off
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

I love the Airforce uniform; I like that shade of blue
And young Lieutenant Reggie, oh, the stunts he used to do
He'd fly across our house and drop love-letters down the flue
So I went to see the gipsy once again
Said she, 'Be careful dearie, flying men are very slim
He'll surely drop in on you when you're not expecting him'

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
And that night in his aeroplane young Reginald Magrath
Flew right across the garden wall and up the garden path
Crashed through the bathroom window pane and I was in the bath
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

The gipsy with her warnings grew so very, very strict
I never got a young man, and I thought it time I kicked
And getting rather anxious as to why I hadn't clicked
I went to see the gipsy once again
Said she 'A brave young man will snatch you from your bed
But if you don't hang on to him, that man you'll never wed'

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
That night the house caught fire, and in his helmet shining bright
A firemen snatched me from my bed, and got me down alright
Then he jumped upon his engine, and he shouted out 'Good night'
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.


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Subject: ADD: The World's All Right (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 11:07 AM

THE WORLD'S ALL RIGHT
Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1921
Performed by Ella Shields (1879-1952)

I met a tramp all alone in his camp,
Laughing gaily and singing a song.
This hoho man drank his tea from a can,
But I hailed him as I passed along.
I said, 'You're down and out, but you seem happy;
What is your secret, tell me friend?'
'Secret,' said he, 'Why, gee, it's just philosophy,
Here's the beginning and the end; 'Oh, the:

Chorus: World's all right, it's the people living in it
Make it seem all wrong, seem all wrong.
If there's strife or any trouble in it,
You can bet your life it's the people who begin it.
So I tramp my way and I'm happy every minute,
And I sing my little song,
Oh, the world's all right, It's the people living in it,
Make it seem all wrong.
'Far from the crowd,' he said, 'I sing aloud,
And the song seems to flow from my heart.
Maybe the birds haven't quite got the words,
But they're in with the tune from the start.
I never get the blues, 'cept when I'm dreaming,
Dreaming I feel a woman's kiss.
In dreams back home I stray but when I wake I say,
'Don't want the old life, give me this!' 'Oh, the:

Chorus: World's all right, it's the people living in it
Make it seem all wrong, seem all wrong.
If there's strife or any trouble in it,
You can bet your life it's the people who begin it.
So I tramp my way and I'm happy every minute,
And I sing my little song,
Oh, the world's all right, It's the people living in it,
Make it seem all wrong.


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Subject: ADD: In Our Little Garden Sub-Bub (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 02:16 PM

IN OUR LITTLE GARDEN SUB-BUB
Written and composed by Bob Weston and Bert Lee - 1922
Performed by Ernie Mayne (1871-1937)

I feel like a fighting man, I'm fit and fat and fine
Since I've lived in a little garden sub-bub up the line
Though to call it a suburb is the fashionable way
But I call it a sub-bub 'cos it's easier to say
If town life's too fast for you and country life too slow
Don't make a bungle of your life but build a bungalow

Chorus: In our little garden sub-bub
Far away from the noise and the hub-bub
When you've tired of the pub-bub
Tired of the club-bub
Take a little house in the garden sub-bub
There you can grow stewed rub-bub
And you can bath in an old rain tub-bub
So leave all the hub-bub, and the pub-bub and the club-bub
And grow your own grub-bub in the sub-bub.

We draw all our water from a well. Well, I say well
Well, we call it a well, though it doesn't work so well
And to judge by the smell our tabby cat that wasn't well
Said all's well that ends well and got drowned down in the well
But who wants a well, ay? Who the dickens wants a well?
While I've a barrel full of bass the well can go to...

Chorus: Well in our little garden sub-bub-bub-bub-bub
Far away from the noise and the hub-bub-bub-bub-bub
When you've tired of the pub-bub
And you're tired of the club-bub-bub-bub
Take a little house in the garden sub-bub-bub-bub-bub
There you can grow stewed rub-bub-bub-bub-bub
And you can bath in an old rain tub-bub-bub-bub
So leave all the hub-bub, and the pub-bub and the club-bub
And grow your own grub-bub in the sub-bub.
 


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Subject: ADD:Shall I Have it Bobbed or Shingled(Weston/Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 04:43 PM

SHALL I HAVE IT BOBBED OR SHINGLED
Written and composed by Bert Lee & Robert Patrick Weston - 1924
Performed by Ernest Le Messurier
 
Sweet Suzy Simpson had such lovely hair; it reached down to her waist.
Till friends sweetly told her that around Mayfair having hair was bad taste.
"Bobbed or shingled it must be, dear," said they, "if you wish to wed."
Till in black despair in the fatal chair in the hairdresser's shop she said:

Chorus: "Shall I have it bobbed or shingled? Shall I have it shingled or bobbed?
Sister Cissy says, 'Oh, have it shorn short, Sue,
Shingled, shorn and shaven like the swell set do.'
Shall I have it shingled shorter?" said Suzy as she sighed and sobbed.
"Sister Cissy said she'd sooner see it short and shingled,
But both my brothers Bert and Bobby say it's better bobbed."

Inside Woolworth's store this afternoon, a clerk sat sad and blue.
Her manager happened by that way and said "What's wrong with you?
If you find that your work's too hard, I will help you with your task."
Then the maiden sighed and softly cried, "Here's a question I'd like to ask.

Chorus:"Shall I have it bobbed or shingled? Shall I have it shingled or bobbed?
Sister Cissy says, 'Oh, have it shorn short, Sue,
Shingled, shorn and shaven like the swell set do.'
Shall I have it shingled shorter?" said Suzy as she sighed and sobbed.
"Sister Cissy said she'd sooner see it short and shingled,
But both my brothers Bert and Bobby say it's better bobbed."

Inside a butcher shop in Golders Green, just after closing time,
A cat got her tail in the sausage machine and was cut off in her prime.
She ran out with her tail ripped off and swanked it to the cats with pride,
And the tabs and toms put their to's and froms in the sausage machine and cried.

Chorus:"Shall I have it bobbed or shingled? Shall I have it shingled or bobbed?
Sister Cissy says, 'Oh, have it shorn short, Sue,
Shingled, shorn and shaven like the swell set do.'
Shall I have it shingled shorter?" said Suzy as she sighed and sobbed.
"Sister Cissy said she'd sooner see it short and shingled,
But both my brothers Bert and Bobby say it's better bobbed."

Lady Godiva on a snow-white mare once rode through Coventry,
And she was wearing all her lovely hair. Oh, it reached down to her knee.
Peeping Tom at his windowpane exclaimed when he saw the sight:
"Oh, your hair's all wrong, 'cause it's much too long," and Godiva replied, "You're right...

Chorus:"Shall I have it bobbed or shingled? Shall I have it shingled or bobbed?
Sister Cissy says, 'Oh, have it shorn short, Sue,
Shingled, shorn and shaven like the swell set do.'
Shall I have it shingled shorter?" said Suzy as she sighed and sobbed.
"Sister Cissy said she'd sooner see it short and shingled,
But both my brothers Bert and Bobby say it's better bobbed."
 


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Subject: ADD: Brahn Boots (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 04:46 AM

BRAHN BOOTS
(R. P. Weston and Bert Lee)

Our Aunt Hanna's passed away,
We 'ad her funeral today,
And it was a posh affair,
Had to have two p'licemen there!

The 'earse was luv'ly, all plate glass,
And wot a corfin!... oak and brass!
We'd fah-sands weepin', flahers galore,
But Jim, our cousin... what d'yer fink 'e wore?

Why, brahn boots!
I ask yer... brahn boots!
Fancy coming to a funeral
In brahn boots!

I will admit 'e 'ad a nice black tie,
Black fingernails and a nice black eye;
But yer can't see people orf when they die,
In brahn boots!

And Aunt 'ad been so very good to 'im,
Done all that any muvver could for 'im,
And Jim, her son, to show his clars...
Rolls up to make it all a farce,

In brahn boots...
I ask yer... brahn boots!
While all the rest,
Wore decent black and mourning suits.

I'll own he didn't seem so gay,
In fact he cried most part the way,
But straight, he reg'lar spoilt our day,
Wiv 'is brahn boots.

In the graveyard we left Jim,
None of us said much to him,
Yus, we all gave 'im the bird,
Then by accident we 'eard...

'E'd given 'is black boots to Jim Small,
A bloke wot 'ad no boots at all,
So p'raps Aunt Hanna doesn't mind,
She did like people who was good and kind.

But brahn boots!
I ask yer... brahn boots!
Fancy coming to a funeral,
In brahn boots!

And we could 'ear the neighbours all remark
'What, 'im chief mourner? Wot a blooming lark!
'Why 'e looks more like a Bookmaker's clerk...
In brahn boots!'

That's why we 'ad to be so rude to 'im,
That's why we never said 'Ow do!' to 'im,
We didn't know... he didn't say,
He'd give 'is other boots away.

But brahn boots!
I ask yer... brahn boots!
While all the rest,
Wore decent black and mourning suits!

But some day up at Heavens gate,
Poor Jim, all nerves, will stand and wait,
'til an angel whispers... 'Come in, Mate,
'Where's yer brahn boots?'


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Subject: ADD: It's My Bath Night Tonight (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 08:04 AM

IT'S MY BATH NIGHT, TONIGHT
 Written and composed by Bert Lee & R.P. Weston - 1922
Performed by Jack Pleasants (1874-1924) 

Although I am a type of English beauty I confess
The good looks I possess are due to cleanliness
A lady said tonight she'd take me to a picture show
And buy a box of chocolates too but I refused to go
because...

CHORUS:
'It's my bath night tonight
My bath night, my bath night
Tonight's the night my Mamma with joy
Makes her little popsy-wopsy a nice clean boy
She lights the fire and gets the pot a-boiling
And she scrubs me nice and white
I wish you all could come and see me splashing in the sink
It's my bath night tonight'

One day when I was seeing life and dashing down the Strand
I heard a mission band, the music it was grand
A sweet salvation Lass said, 'Let me save you from the wreck
Your past is very black young man' I said, 'So is my neck... but

CHORUS:
It's my bath night tonight
My bath night, my bath night
Tonight's the night my Mamma with joy
Makes her little popsy-wopsy a nice clean boy
The captain shouted, 'Come with us to glory.'
I said, 'Thanks for your invite
But dear old Mother's going to wash me whiter than the snow
'Cos it's my bath night tonight.'

I tried to be an actor once in Shakespear's tragedy
Othello, that was me. I'd blacked my face you see
But one night in the killing scene, when I made my salaam
The audience yelled, 'Othello's white.' I said, 'Of course I am
because...

CHORUS:
It's my bath night tonight
My bath night, my bath night
Tonight's the night my Mamma with joy
Makes her little popsy-wopsy a nice clean boy
They threw bouquets at pretty Desdemona
They threw roses red and white
I don't know what they threw at me but I said, 'Thank the Lord,
That it's my bath night tonight'
 


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Subject: ADD: I Went A-Jazzing (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 11:39 AM

I WENT A JAZZING
 Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee
Performed by Jack Pleasants (1874-1924)

I met my Alice, my little Alice,
At the big 'Jazz tea' at the Piccadilly Palace
And I knew I'd met my kindred soul
When she said, 'Hon, come and do the Jelly Roll'
We started Jazzing, we started Jazzing
And when we were out of breath
She murmured, 'Kiddo, say I'm the widow
Of the man who jazzed himself to death.
So Jazz with me through life.'
And on the day that I made her my wife
All down the isle, just like a crocodile
I went a-jazzing, I went a-jazzing
All round the church with a dip and a lurch
I went a-jazzing, I went a-jazzing
The parson he gave a glance
He said, 'He's got St Vitus' Dance'
Then the old fat aunt of Alice's
Said, 'I think he's only got paralysis'
Soon all the choir threw their books on the fire
And started jazzing, they started jazzing
The old organist all the bridesmaids he kissed
And started jazzing, he started jazzing
The parson shouted, 'Do keep still.
Now Alice will you marry Bill?'
She blushed and answered, 'Yes I will
If he keeps jazzing all the time.'

I'm getting thinner, I'm getting thinner
For I've jazzed twelve hours and haven't stopped for dinner
For when we have dinner all she has
Is a slice bread and dripping and a jazz
This jazzing' a awful, Why is it lawful?
Oh, I've jazzed until I'm nearly dead
The morn at seven I dreamed of heaven
Then the missis pushed me out of bed
She said, 'Wake up you dunce,
You've got to jazz to the doctor at once'
All down the street, with no boots on my feet
I went a-jazzing, I went a-jazzing
No coat and hat, like a drowned water rat
I went a-jazzing, I went a-jazzing
I rang the doctor's bell
And I exclaimed the wife's not well
Then he came outside to see me shake
As in my little shirt I did the Shimmy Shake
Soon up the stairs, while I stood saying prayers
He went a-jazzing, he went a-jazzing
Feeling so glad 'cause I'd soon be a dad
I started jazzing, I started jazzing
The doctor came down to the door
And shouted out to me, Oh Lor
I don't know if there's three or four
'Cause they keep jazzing all the time.


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Subject: ADD:I'm Learning a Song for Christmas-Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 01:05 PM

I'M LEARNING A SONG FOR CHRISTMAS
 Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee
Performed by Jack Pleasants (1874-1924)

I did feel a silly ass last Christmas night
'Cos I couldn't sing and I couldn't recite
The girls called me slacker and other rude names
And wouldn't kiss me when they played parlour games
But I'll show 'em something next Christmas you see
I've turned up me job, and between you and me,
Chorus: I'm learning a song for Christmas
To sing upon Christmas night
Oh, Oh, how does it go?
This is the only part I know
Ha, ha, ha, he, he, he, I hope I shall get it all right
Oh I shall look a mug with me little brown jug
When I sing it on Christmas night.
Patter: Yes and I think it'll be a good song for Christmas, 'Little Brown Jug'. It's better that 'A Little Bit Of Heaven'... there's nothing in that... but there is something in 'The Little Brown Jug'... at least there is if me father hasn't drunk it.
Course, I hope they call upon me at a proper time on Christmas night. I mean... if they call on me too early I shan't be warmed up and if they call on me too late, I shall be full-up!
Oh! I'm going to come out in me best suit... mind you, before I come out in me best suit, me best suit'll have to come out.
Yes, and I'm practicing hard everyday now and I've started taking singing lessons. I went round to the teacher's house last night and though I say it m'self, I was in fine form. I ran up the scales... I got up to 'F'... then I got up to 'G'... and just as I was getting up to 'A'... something white ran past the door. He said, 'It's alright, it's only the wife who's just been running her bath.' And would you believe it, I actually got up to 'C'!
Chorus: I'm learning a song for Christmas
To sing upon Christmas night
Oh, Oh, how does it go?
This is the only part I know
Ha, ha, ha, he, he, he, I hope I shall get it all right
Oh I shall look a mug with me little brown jug
When I sing it on Christmas night.


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Subject: ADD: Could Lloyd George Do It? (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 01:40 PM

COULD LLOYD GEORGE DO IT?
Written and composed by R.P. Weston & B. Lee - 1925
Performed by Stanley Lupino (1894-1942)
(Submitted by Barrie Mathers - Jan. 2013)


There are lots of clever men but the ordinary hen
Can take them down a peg.
Whilst they're laying down the law, the old chicken in the straw
Sits her down and she lays an egg, that's all.
She lays UP new-laid egg.
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
Could Ramsay Mac and the other clever men
Do the same as the poor old hen?
The hen lays an egg; nobody has ever
Said that it was wonderful or marvelous or clever,
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!

Now the ordinary cat takes it's meals upon the mat
Without the aid of knives,
And its songs upon the tiles can be heard for thirty miles,
And it also has nine lives, that's all,
With perhaps two thousand wives.
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
Could Peckham Rye or even Shepherd's Bush
Do the same as the sweet little puss?
The cat leads a life that is nothing else but clover.
With his little tongue he can wash himself all over,
And could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!

See the flighty little fly dancing round the apple pie,
Or your bacon nice and brown,
When you stuck him with a fork he will fly away and walk
On the ceiling upside down. He walks
On the ceiling upside down,
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
Could Wellington or Napoleon Bonaparte
Sit for two hours in a raspberry tart?
You swear at the fly and you flare just like a trooper,
But that wouldn't stop him sitting on the fce of Gladys Cooper,
And could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!

In the wilds of Africa with his tail up hip hoorah
The ostrich roams the dales.
For a fortnight he will stand with his head stuck in the sand,
And he eats horseshoes and nails, that's all,
With perhaps amusing tales
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
Could Henry Ford out in Oshkosh, Mich.
Eat horseshoes like the poor ostrich?
It's only a bird and it's ugly and it's skinny,
But on its fluffy part it grows a feather worth a guinea.
And could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
 


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Subject: ADD: The Bolshevic (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 03:14 PM

THE BOLSHEVIC
 Written and composed by Bert Lee & R.P. Weston - 1919
Performed by Ernest Hastings

I am a bold, bad Bolshevik, to Bolsh is my delight
I'm busy bolshing all the day, and then I bolsh at night
I'm awfully good at murdering, and as I'm unemployed
I've made a little list of those who've got to be destroyed.

I'm going to murder my barber, I'd not much hair he said
To make it grow he rubbed a lot of goose-fat on my head
Next day I'd grown some feathers and I cackled and I clucked
I never have my hair cut now, I have my feathers plucked.

I'm going to kill our Parson. He's got to pass away
For at the local Parish Church upon my wedding day
'Twas him that made me say 'I will' - of all the dirty tricks
'Twill show you what they stoop to do for a paltry seven and six.

I'm going to kill our baker. I'm going to kill him dead
For last night with the 'housemaids knee' I hear he went to bed
I'll teach him to be decent, and kneeling on his chest
I'll say, 'you had the housemaid's knee, but where was all the rest?'

I'm going to kill our milkman. His skull I mean to crack
For in the milk this morn I found a stickleback
That fish came from his moo-cow, I've not the slightest doubt
Why doesn't he milk elephants and let me have a trout.

I'm going to kill our servant, for in the bathroom door
She bored a little hole and all the family said, 'What for?'
She said 'twould let the steam out and they laughed upon my life
But I saw through the notion and she went and told the wife.
 


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Subject: ADD: And Yet I Don't Know (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 14 Sep 22 - 05:48 AM

AND YET, I DON'T KNOW
(R. P. Weston and Bert Lee 1922)

Performed by Stanley Holloway

Now, my sister's daughter Elizabeth May
Is going to get married next Sunday, they say.
Now, what shall I buy her? She's such a nice gel!
I think a piano would do very well.
I saw one today, only ninety-five pound:
A decent piano, I'll have it sent round.

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
I think she's the rottenest player I know.
And if she keeps thumping out that 'Maiden's Pray'r'
The husband might kill his young bride, and so there!
I won't buy the piano! It's not that I'm mean;
I think I'd best buy her a sewing machine.

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
A sewing machine is a 'tenner' or so!
A 'tenner' would buy lots of needles and thread,
And things that are hand-made are best, so it's said.
So it's not that I'm mingey, although I'm half Scotch -
I know what I'll buy her; an Ingersoll watch!

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
In five or six years they're too fast or too slow.
And when she's turn'd seventy, that's if she's spar'd,
'Twill have cost her a fortune in being repair'd.
Or else she'll have pawn'd it, and lost it, so there!
I know what I'll buy her; a jumper to wear!

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
The girls won't wear jumpers in ten years or so.
Besides she might start getting fat before long.
And fat girls in jumpers show too much ong bong!
And open work jumpers give ladies the 'flu,
I'll buy her some handkerchiefs; that's what I'll do!

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
Good hankies cost twelve bob a dozen or so.
And twelve bob's too much for her poor Uncle John.
Why, anything does just to blow your nose on.
And talking of noses, hers looks red enough!
I know what I'll buy her; a nice powder puff.

She can't powder her nose with a grand piano,
Nor yet with a sewing machine.
She can't powder her nose with an Ingersoll watch:
Well, it's silly! You see what I mean!
She can't powder her nose with a jumper:
She would find it a little bit rough;
So I'll go round to Woolworth's tonight, God bless her!

And buy her a powder puff. And yet I don't know!
And yet I don't know! Sixpence ha'p'nies don't grow in backyards,
So I don't think I'll send her a powder puff,
I'll send her... my kindest regards!


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Subject: ADD: My Word, You Do Look Queer! (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 15 Sep 22 - 05:57 AM

MY WORD, YOU DO LOOK QUEER
(Bob Weston & Bert Lee 1923)


I've been very poorly but now I feel prime,
I've been out today for the very first time.
I felt like a lad as I walked down the road,
Then I met Old Jones and he said, 'Well I'm blowed!'
My word, you do look queer!
My word, you do look queer!

Oh, dear! You look dreadful: you've had a near shave,
You look like a man with one foot in the grave.'
I said, 'Bosh! I'm better; it's true I've been ill.'
He said, 'I'm delighted you're better, but still,
I wish you'd a thousand for me in your will.
My word, you do look queer!'

That didn't improve me, it quite put me back,
Still, I walked farther on, and I met Cousin jack.
He looked at me hard and he murmured,'Gee whiz!
It's like him! It can't be! It isn't! It is!
By gosh! Who'd have thought it? Well, well, I declare!
I'd never have known you except for your hair.
My word, you do look queer!
My word, you do look queer!

Your cheeks are all sunk and your colour's all gone,
Your neck's very scraggy, still you're getting on.
How old are you now? About fifty, that's true.
Your father died that age, your mother did too.
Well, the black clothes I wore then'll come in for you.
My word! You do look queer!'

That really upset me; I felt quite cast down,
But I tried to buck up, and then up came old Brown.
He stared at me hard, then he solemnly said,
'You shouldn't be out, you should be home in bed.
I heard you were bad, well I heard you were gone.
You look like a corpse with an overcoat on.
'My word you do look queer!
My word you do look queer!

You'd best have a brandy before you drop dead.'
So, pale as a sheet, I crawled in the'King's Head',
The barmaid sobbed,'Oh you poor fellow,' and then She said,
'On the slate you owe just one pound ten,
You'd better pay up, we shan't see you again.
My word you do look queer!'

My knees started knocking, I did feel so sad.
Then Brown said, 'Don't die in a pub, it looks bad,'
He said, 'Come with me, I'll show you what to do.
Now I've got a friend who'll be useful to you.'
He led me to Black's Undertaking Depot,
And Black, with some crepe round his hat said,
'Hello, 'My word you do look queer!
My word you do look queer!

Now we'll fix you up for a trifling amount.
Now what do you say to a bit on account?'
I said,'I'm not dying.' He said,'Don't say that!
My business of late has been terribly flat,
But I'm telling my wife she can have that new hat!
My word, you do look queer!'

I crawled in the street and I murmured, 'I'm done.'
Then up came Old Jenkins and shouted, 'By gum!'
'My word you do look well!
My word you do look well!
You're looking fine and in the pink!'
I shouted, 'Am I?... Come and have a drink!
You've put new life in me,
I'm sounder than a bell.
By gad! There's life in the old dog yet.
My word, I do feel well!'


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Subject: ADD: Ain't It Nice (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 15 Sep 22 - 03:56 PM

AINT IT NICE?
Written by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - Composed by R. Harris & R.P. Weston 1923
Performed by Daisy Dormer


Isn't love wonderful? girls, oh girls
When a boy says to you, 'What nice curls
Let us take a ramble where the grass grows high.'
Then Cupid fires his arrow and you softly sigh.

CHORUS:
Ain' it nice when he offers you a poppy
Ain' it nice when he looks at you so sloppy?
Ain't it nice when you sit upon a stile?
And he says, 'I love you please don't smile' ain' it nice
When a bee that's after honey
Tumbles down your back, and though you're most precise
When he puts his thumb and finger,
Down your back to catch the stinger
And you feel him kind of linger. Ain' it nice?

Ten o'clock! What a shock! Oh, it's late
Twenty past! home at last! at your gate
He stand till eleven, or perhaps ten past
Mother doesn't mind, she thinks you've clicked at last

CHORUS:
Ain' it nice when you're squeezing in the doorway
Ain' it nice though it's colder far than Norway?
Ain' it nice when he's never kissed before?
And he says, 'Miss do I blow or draw?' Ain' it nice?
When Ma asks him in to supper
And you think he's used to champagne served on ice
You feel all your chances slipping
And the tablecloth you're gripping
Till he says, 'I like your dripping.' Ain' it nice?

Soon the bells, wedding bells, ring ding, dong
Man and wife, tied for life, good and strong
When the parson whispers, 'Don't forget that we
Have our christenings every Sunday twelve till three.'

CHORUS:
Ain' it nice when the men all rush to kiss you
Ain' it nice when Ma cries and says she'll miss you?
Ain' it nice that old wedding toast that runs?
'May all your cares be little ones.' Ain' it nice?
When they all go home and leave you
And you're thinking is this earth or paradise?
When he whispers, 'You're my own dear
We won't need a chaperone, dear
And, at last we're all alone dear. Ain' it nice?'


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Subject: ADD: Somebody's Coming to Tea (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 17 Sep 22 - 11:07 AM

SOMEBODY'S COMING TO TEA

Words and music by Clay Smith, R.P. Weston & Bert Lee
Performed by Stanley Kirkby & Harry Hudson
Performed by Lee White (1886-1927)

Every one at home today is mighty busy
Polishing the knocker there's my old Aunt Lizzie
Father's on a ladder with a great big broom
Breaking up the spiders' homes in our best room
Mother's cleaning windows, and when passers by
Whisper, 'What's the matter, dearie?' I reply

CHORUS:
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
Somebody's coming to tea
Mother will bake a cake all for somebody's sake
Somebody dear to me
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
There'll be a jubilee
All of the girls are going to wear their Sunday blouses
Father intends to wear his pair of wedding cuff-links
Ma will have her hair in crackers all day Saturday
Somebody's coming to tea

Baby Fred agrees with little sister Mabel
Not to wipe his jammy fingers on the table
Mother's doing all she can to teach our Steve
To use his little handkerchief and not his sleeve
Billy drops his aitches worse than poor old mum
So he's agreed on Sunday to be deaf and dumb

CHORUS:
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
Somebody's coming to tea
Mother will bake a cake all for somebody's sake
Somebody dear to me
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
There'll be a jubilee
Mother's been roaming up and down the street to borrow
Cups that have handles on, and somehow by tomorrow
Father's going to get a pound of real lump sugar, 'cos
Somebody's coming to tea

Reggie's such a dear, I know they're sure to like him
But I kind of wonder how they're going to strike him
Guess they're rough and ready, tho' as true as steel
While Reggie has a serviette at every meal
Mother says, 'Don't worry, dear if he proves true
He'll be blind to all our failings, and see only you.'

CHORUS:
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
Somebody's coming to tea
Mother will bake a cake all for somebody's sake
Somebody dear to me
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
There'll be a jubilee
Father, he's going to look just like an Oxford Scholar
After he's had a shave he's going to turn his collar
He's going to call our mother 'dear' instead of other things
Somebody's coming to tea.


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Subject: ADD: Heaven Will Protect an Honest Girl-Weston/Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 17 Sep 22 - 05:03 PM

HEAVEN WILL PROTECT AN HONEST GIRL version 1
 Written by R.P. Weston, Bert Lee, Harris Weston 1933
Sung by Gracie Fields

On the day I left the village, my dear Mother whispered, "Nell
Take this piece of bread and dripping and your fare,
And remember when in London, though you're just a servant gel
You're a blonde, the sort that gentlemen ensnare.
With your youth and fatal beauty, when you get to Waterloo
There'll be crowds of dukes and millionaires all waiting there for you.

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
An an-gi-el will guard you, little Nell.
When these rich men tempt you, Nelly,
With their spark-el-ling Moselly,
Say "Nay! nay!" and do be very care-fu-el!
And if some old bloated blase roue swell
Says 'I'll kiss you, we're alone in this hotel;'
Breathe a prayer he shall not do it
And then biff him with the cruet,
Then Heaven will protect an honest gel!"


When I got to wicked London in my little clogs and shawl,
And my but of bread and dripping in my hand,
I went up to that big Lifeguard on his horse outside Whitehall
And I asked him to direct me to the Strand.
But he didn't even answer; he just sat there with his sword
In a helment that had whiskers on, so I said,"Thank the Lord, for...


Heaven will protect an honest gel,"
And I reached Picadilly safe and well
There I saw a red light glowing
But across I started going
When a P'liceman pulled me back I nearly fell.
"You're a silly little fool," he starts to yell
"Don't you know what that red light means?" I said, "Well,
Red's for danger, if you please, sir,
But don't switch it on for me, sir,
'Cause Heaven will protect an honest gel!"

Optional second verse chorus (or first chorus of third verse if
three verses are used):

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
That night I got a job at some hotel,
But the chef was most improper
For he sat me on the copper
And said "Kiss me or I'll boil you, little Nell."
But I slapped him on the face---and in I fell,
And I came up for the third time with a yell,
"In the soup I'm going to simmer,
But I'll come out clean and slimmer,
For Heaven will protect an honest gel!"

I wandered round Li-cester Square from six o'clock till nine
But no millionaire came tempting me to stray,
"If he does", I thought, "I'll let him take me to the Ritz to dine
Then I'll gollop up his tripe and run away."
Eeh by gum! I did feel hungry! Eeh! I hadn't had a bite
Since my bit of bread and dripping, and I knew that Ma was right, For...

Heaven will protect an honest gel.
Next day I pawned my shawl in Camberwell,
Then my skirt and blouse, I sold 'em
And went tramping back to Oldham;
When a fortnight passed, then I rang at the bell.
"Eeh, but Mother dear," I said, "it's little Nell,
I have lost my sole, my uppers too, as well
And I've walked home in my undies.
But I'll tell my Class on Sundays
That Heaven will protect an honest gel!"


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Subject: ADD: Heaven Will Protect an Honest Girl-Weston/Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 17 Sep 22 - 05:04 PM

HEAVEN WILL PROTECT AN HONEST GIRL version 2
(Weston and Lee)
Performed by Gracie Fields

On the day I left the village, my dear Mother Whispered 'Nell,
Take this piece of bread and dripping and your fare,
And remember when in London, though you're just a servant gel,
You're a blonde, the sort that gentlemen ensnare.
With your youth and fatal beauty, when you get to Waterloo,
There'll be crowds of dukes and millionaires
All waiting there for you' - 'But...

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
An an-gi-el will guard you, little Nell,
When these rich men tempt you, Nelly,
With their spark-el-ling Moselly,
Say 'Nay-nay!' and do be very carefu-el!
And if some old bloated blase roue swell
Says'l'll kiss you, we're alone in this hotel',
Breathe a prayer he shall not do it,
And then biff him with the cruet,
Then Heaven will protect an honest gel!'

When I got to wicked London, in my little clogs and shawl,
And my bit of bread and dripping in my hand,
I went up to that big Lifeguard on his horse outside Whitehall,
And I asked him to direct me to the Strand.
But he didn't even answer, he just sat there with his sword,
In a helmet that had whiskers on, so I said, 'Thank the Lord

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
And I reached Piccadilly safe and well,
There I saw a red light showing,
But across I started going,
When a P'liceman pulled me back I nearly fell.
'You're a silly little fool' he starts to yell,
'Don't you know what that red light means?' I said 'Well,
Red's for danger if you please sir,
But don't switch it on for me sir,
'Cause Heaven will protect an honest gel!'

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
That night I got a job at some Hotel,
But the Chef was most improper,
For he sat me on the copper
And said, 'Kiss me or I'll boil you, little Nell.'
But I slapped him on the face and in I fell,
And I came up for the third time with a yell,
'In the soup I'm going to simmer
But I'll come out clean and slimmer,
For Heaven will protect an honest gel!'

I wandered round Li-cester Square from six o'clock till nine,
But no millionaire came tempting me to stray,
'If he does,' I thought, 'I'll let him take me to the Ritz to dine,
Then I'll gollop up his tripe and run away.'
Eh by gum, I did feel hungry, eh, I hadn't had a bite
Since my bit of bread and dripping, and I knew that
Ma was right - For

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
That night I got a job at some hotel,
But the chef was most improper
For he sat me on the copper
And said "Kiss me or I'll boil you, little Nell."
But I slapped him on the face---and in I fell,
And I came up for the third time with a yell,
"In the soup I'm going to simmer,
But I'll come out clean and slimmer,
For Heaven will protect an honest gel!"

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
Next day I pawned my shawl in Camberwell,
Then my skirt and blouse, I sold 'em
And went tramping back to Oldham;
When a fortnight passed, then I rang at the bell.
'Eh, but Mother dear' I said 'it's little Nell,
I have lost my sole, my uppers too, as well;
And I've walked home in my undies,
But I'll tell my Class on Sundays
That Heaven will protect an honest gel!'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GeoffLawes
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 03:31 AM

Rawtenstall Annual fair     http://folksongandmusichall.com/index.php/rawtenstall-annual-fair/
Rawtenstall Annual Fair -Lee Nicholson on YouTube    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWYVzb2iOV4
Many other recordings of Rawtenstall Annual Fair on Youtube    https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Rawtenstall+Annual+Fair


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Subject: What I Want Is a Proper Cup of Coffee(Weston/Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 05:26 AM

WHAT I WANT IS A PROPER CUP OF COFFEE

Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1926
Performed by Ernie Mayne (1871-1937)

A Sultan sat on his oriental mat
In his harem in downtown Persia
He took a sip of coffee, just a drip
And he said to his servant Kersha
"Ah, Kersha, Kersha, Kershia
That's the worst cup of coffee in Persia"

CHORUS:
'Cause all I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot but I want a proper coffee
In a proper copper pot"
"Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee
In a proper copper coffee pot, I'll have a cup of tea"

In days of old when knights and men were bold
And whiskey was much cheaper
Dick Turpin rode to a coffee shop
And showed his pistols to the keeper
He said, "Stand and deliver!
Can't you see that I'm all a quiver?"

Chorus:'Cause all I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot but I want a proper coffee
In a proper copper pot"
"Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee
In a proper copper coffee pot, I'll have a cup of tea"

When Bonaparte found that he was in the cart
And he lost that Waterloo fight
He gave his sword to Wellington, my Lord
And he said, "Those British can't half fight"
"Now you've had your Waterloo, sir
Tell me what am I having with you, sir?"

Chorus:'Cause all I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot but I want a proper coffee
In a proper copper pot"
"Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee
In a proper copper coffee pot, I'll have a cup of tea"

Now king Solomon and his queen would carry on
So we heard in the ancient scandals
He bought her lots of silver coffee pots
With diamond legs and handles
And said the Queen of Sheba
"I'd rather have any old tea-bag"

Chorus: 'Cause all I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot but I want a proper coffee
In a proper copper pot"
"Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee
In a proper copper coffee pot, I'll have a cup of tea"


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Subject: ADD: Knees Up Mother Brown (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 06:20 AM

KNEES UP MOTHER BROWN

Written by R.H. Weston/I. Taylor & Bert Lee - 1938
Performed by Elsie & Doris Waters


I've just been to 'ding-dong' down dear old Brixton way
Old Mother Brown the Pearly Queen's a hundred years today
Oh what a celebration! was proper lah-di-dah!
Until they rolled the carpet up, and shouted 'Nah then, Ma'

Chorus: Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

And fat old Uncle 'Enry quite enjoyed the fun
The buttons on his Sunday pants kept bustin' one by one
But still 'e kept on dancin' another one went pop
He said'I'm goin' to keep on till me 'round-me-houses' drop, Ooh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

Then old Maria Perkins, she danced wiv all 'er might
Each time she kicked her legs up we all shouted with delight
'Lift up yer skirts Maria - my word yer doin' fine
And we can see yer washin' 'anging on the Siegfried Line, Ooh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

We 'ad no 'pigs-ear' glasses, but still we didn't mind
We drank it out of 'vauses' and whatever we could find
We toasted good old Nelson there 'anging by the door
And as we blew the froth at him he shouted with a roar, Ohh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

Bill drove up on 'is barrer - just like a proper swell
And Mother Brown said, 'Come inside and bring you're moke as well.'
It nibbled Grandad's whiskers, then started kicking out
And as Ma Brown went through the window we began to shout, Ooh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

And then old Granny Western - she'ad a good 'blow out'
She 'ad two pints of winkles wiv some cockles and some stout
'I might 'ave indigestion,' she murmured with a grunt
'But lummy, up to now, it's all quiet on the Western front! Ooh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

A crowd stood by the winder - they 'ad a lovely time
The kids sat on the railin's, thought it was a pantomime
Pa went round wiv 'is 'titfer' - collected one and three
We shouted 'Come on, Mother, show 'em your agilitee,' Ooh

Chorus: Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.


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Subject: ADD: She Was Poor But She Was Honest(Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 07:27 AM

SHE WAS POOR BUT SHE WAS HONEST
 Written and composed by R.P. Weston and Bert Lee - 1930
Performed by Billy Bennett (1887-1942)
Performed by Elsa Lanchester (1902-1986) 

She was poor but she was honest,
though she came from 'umble stock,
And her honest heart was beating
Underneath her tattered frock.

But the rich man saw her beauty,
She knew not his base design,
And he took her to a hotel
And bought her a small port wine.

Chorus: It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

In the rich man's arms she fluttered
Like a bird with a broken wing,
But he loved her and he left her,
Now she hasn't got no ring.

Time has flown - outcast and homeless
In the street she stands and says,
While the snowflakes fall around her,
'Won't you buy my bootlaces.'

Chorus:It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

Standing on the bridge at midnight
She says, 'Farewell, blighted love!'
There's a scream, a splash, good 'eavens!
What is she a doing of?

Soon they dragged her from the river,
Water from her clothes they wrang.
They all thought that she was drownded,
But the corpse got up and sang:

Chorus:It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

She was poor but she was honest,
Victim of a rich man's game.
First he loved her, then he left her,
And she lost her maiden name.

Then she ran away to London
For to hide her grief and shame.
There she met an Army captain,
And she lost her name again.

Chorus:It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

See him riding in a carriage
Past the gutter where she stands.
He has made a stylish marriage,
While she wrings her ringless hands.

See him there at the theatre,
In the front row with the best,
While the girl that he has ruined
Entertains a sordid guest.

Chorus:It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

See her on the bridge at midnight,
Crying "Farewell, blighted love".
Then a scream, a splash and Goodness!
What is she a-doing of?

When they dragged her from the river
Water from her clothes they wrung.
Though they thought that she was drownded,
Still her corpse got up and sung:

Chorus: It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?


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Subject: ADD:Great Big Saw Came Nearer&Nearer -Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 12:04 PM

AND THE GREAT BIG SAW CAME NEARER AND NEARER
 Written and composed by R.H. Weston & Bert Lee - 1936
Performed by Leslie Sarony (1897-1985)

Now he was a saw-mill proprietor
And she was a fair maid unkissed
One evening he winked his squint eye at her
But she said, 'Nay, nay, Sir, desist'
So he dragged her into the saw-mill, poor wench
Then he took off his belt and strapped her to the bench

Chorus: And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer
'Be my wife or I will cut you in two'
Said the villain to poor little Vera
But she said, 'Nay, nay, though you cut me in twain
The angels will stick me together again'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer.

The villainous saw-mill proprietor
Heard her screaming there fit to bust
So what did he do to quiet her
He filled up her mouth with saw dust
She looked like a lovely wax doll there it's true
And chock full of saw dust she felt like that too

Chorus: And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer
'Be my wife or I will cut you in two'
Said the villain to poor little Vera
But she said, 'Nay, nay, though you've money in banks
I wouldn't wed you if you cut me in planks
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer.

But Ha, look who's here, why it's young rancher Jim
'Tis her sweetheart a burly sheep herder
And he yells to the villain, 'Hands up you brute'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
But the villain has used his belt strapping her down
Yes he's used it to strap down poor Vera
So when he throws his hands up, his trousers fall down
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer

But who's this? It's the sheriff. He shows them his star
Then he says when he looks round at Vera
'Gee ain't that just too bad. What d'ya know about that?'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
Ah, then in came the doctor (He heard the gal scream)
So he thought she'd been queer and get queerer
He says 'Show me your tongue! Now lets feel your pulse'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer

Ah, who's this? 'Tis the undertaker with tape
He kneels down and measures poor Vera
Says, 'Would you like it in elm or in oak?'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
'Ah, but can nothing save her?' they say as they weep
As they think it means good-bye to Vera
Till she hollers out, 'Stop the machinery, you fools'
And they do, it's a darn good idea.

And the saw no more comes nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer.
Wedding bells ding dong, the hero so strong
Goes to church with his beautiful Vera
But now, fed up with marriage she'll say, 'Listen here
For goodness sake next time, Sam, don't interfere
When the big saw comes nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer.'


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Subject: ADD: Bachelor Ben (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 04:38 AM

BACHELOR BEN
 Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1926
Performed by Bromley Carter

I'm sixty seven and thin on the thatch,
I'm a bachelor still and I always shall batch.
My married friends laugh and declare I'm a chump
But when I see their wives, I think, "Umph! I'm no gump."
I can sit here in piece and there's no-one to shriek,
"I shall want some more house-keeping money this week."
And there's no Jumper patterns strewn all round my den,
Ee!... there's not many flies on old Bachelor Ben.
I don't want you to think I hate women becos
When I was eighteen, I was 'Hot Stuff'... I was.
In those days I ran after every young lass,
By Gad, I've been over a good bit of grass!
Why, when I was six, at a local bazaar
I proposed to a girl, aye... and asked her papa.
I saw her last week, she'd a family of ten...
A fine mess she'd have made of old Bachelor Ben.

We'd no picture shows then to spoon in the dark
But I've made rare good use of a seat in the park.
But I must say the girls were a trifle too slick,
They were what you'd call snatchers and grabbed at you quick.
It was fatal to go home to supper with one,
I know I once did and I thought I was done.
I'd no sooner got in than they shouted, "Say when!"
And out through the doorway went Bachelor Ben.

There was one girl, named Rose, she came of good stock;
Well, her mother said she was the flower of the flock;
But Rose went and married the gardener, Jim;
Now there's six little rosebuds all climbing round him.
And then there was Eileen, her other name's Green,
She looked like a fairy when she was nineteen,
But nowadays Eileen weighs fourteen stone ten,
Thank the Lord she's not leaning on Bachelor Ben.

And every old bachelor must have his joke,
But there's one face I see when I sit here and smoke.
She would have been mine... but alas she has gone
And her mem'ry is all that I have to live on.
There aren't any weddings were she is, they say,
But down in my heart I feel certain, some day
When I'm called and I leave my old bachelor den,
She'll be waiting above... for old Bachelor Ben.


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Subject: ADD: The Beefeater (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 05:34 AM

THE BEEFEATER
(R. P. Weston and Bert Lee)
Performed by Stanley Holloway


Spoken: Oh dear, starting another day I suppose, showing these ‘ere gumps
around the Tower. Still, it’s got to be done, someone’s got to do it.
Good Morning! What’s that? Will I show you around t’Tower, Sir? You’re from
Yorkshire, Sir? Ba goom! The world’s small. I’m from Yorkshire meself... aye;
These ‘ere Cockneys don’t know there’s a tower here at all.'

First of all, Sir, we come to the canteen
Where you wash the cobwebs off your chest.
That’s our motto there - ‘Honi soit qui may y pense’,
And in Yorkshire that means beer is best.

Eh? I’ll have a pint, Sir, and thank yer,
You’ll find it good ale to sup.
Well, as Guy Fawkes said when he got bunged in Dungeon
And tumbled head first – "Bottoms up!"

That big ‘ole outside is the moat, Sir,
And they do say if ever John Bull
Sells the tower for a road house with cracks puttied up –
It’ll make a damn fine swimming pool.

And now, Sir, we come to armoury;
Here’s the tin pants of Dick Coeur de Lion.
Just imagine the job that his old woman had
Putting patches on with soldering iron.

Here’s the shirt and the chainmail Black Prince wore...
To starch and iron that were real tricky:
It took three boilermakers to put on his shirt,
And a blacksmith to put on his dicky.

And this ‘ere’s the real 'eadsman’s block, Sir,
From this many ‘eads fell with a thud –
Ee!... to keep all these ‘ere stains fresh all these three hundred years
We’ve used buckets and buckets of blood.

‘Ere’s the axe – that’s the genuine axe, Sir,
That’s given Royal necks some ‘ard whacks.
Tho’ it’s ‘ad a new ‘andle and perhaps a new head
But it’s a real old original axe.

And down here’s where Princes were murdered,
Aye, strangled poor kids in cold blood.
And what’s worse, down here I tossed Scotsman for shilling...
I won, but the shilling was dud.

And here’s where they tortured the prisoners...
On that rack when they wouldn’t confess
They were crushed till their blood ran drip, drip, drip.
Feeling faint, Sir?... Well, here’s sergeant’s mess.

Eh? Oh , thank you, I will have a pint, Sir,
For talking’s a day’s work. Bet your life!
For when I show you ducking stool they had for women
By Goom, you’ll wish you’d brought the wife.

And why do they call us Beefeaters?
Is it ‘cos we eat beef, Sir, Nay, nay.
The sergeant eats pork and the corporal eats bacon,
But I eat tripe three times a day.

And so you shall know we’re Beefeaters;
There’s me who has fought in the wars
‘As to walk round with frills on me neck like a hambone,
A daft hat and purple plus fours.

But here’s why they call us Beefeaters,
King Alfred, one night so they say
Fell over the feet of the sentry
And shouted "Oi! Keep your B– feet out of the way!"


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Subject: ADD: Good-Bye-ee (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 07:36 AM

Good-Bye-ee
(R P Weston & Bert Lee 1917)

Brother Bertie went away
To do his bit the other day
With a smile on his lips
And his Lieutenant's pips
Upon his shoulder, bright and gay
As the train moved out he said
"Remember me to all the birds"
Then he wagged his paw
And went away to war
Shouting out these pathetic words:
Goodbye-ee! Goodbye-ee!
Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee
Though it's hard to part I know, (I know)
I'll be tickled to death to go!
Don't cry-ee, don't sigh-ee
There's a silver lining in the sky-ee!
Bonsoir old thing, cheerio, chin-chin
Nah-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye-ee!
At the concert down at Kew
The convalescents, dressed in blue
Had to hear Lady Lee
Who had turned eighty three
Sing the old old songs she knew
Then she made a speech and said
"I look upon you boys with pride
And for what you've done
I'm going to kiss each one!"
Then they all grabbed their sticks and cried:
Goodbye-ee! Goodbye-ee!
Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee
Though it's hard to part I know, (I know)
I'll be tickled to death to go!
Don't cry-ee, don't sigh-ee
There's a silver lining in the sky-ee!
Bonsoir old thing, cheerio, chin-chin
Nah-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye-ee!
Little Private Patrick Shaw
He was a prisoner of war
Till a Hun with a gun
Called him "pig dog" for fun
Then Paddy punched him on the jaw!
Right across the barbed wire fence
The German dropped, in fear, dear oh dear!
All the wire gave way
And Paddy yelled "hooray!"
As he ran for the Dutch frontier!
Goodbye-ee! Goodbye-ee!
Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee
Though it's hard to part I know, (I know)
I'll be tickled to death to go!
Don't cry-ee, don't sigh-ee
There's a silver lining in the sky-ee!
Bonsoir old thing, cheerio, chin-chin
Nah-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye-ee!


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Subject: ADD: Beat the Retreat (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 11:50 AM

BEAT THE RETREAT
(R. P. Weston and Bert Lee)

I'm a hundred and two today, bagoom!
Eh, today I'm a hundred and two,
And at ten years of age I was soldiering, aye,
I wor drummer boy at Waterloo.

And when Wellington said, 'Sam, my lad, get thy drum,'
I wor so mighty anxious to start
That I dashed out in front and got captured by French,
And wor taken afore Boneyparte.

And Boneyparte, scratching his-self under t'arm,
Like you see him in pictures today,
Said, 'Voila!' so you are a drummer boy, oui
Then show us how well you can play.'

'Sam, Sam! beat the Retreat!
Beat the Retreat on thy drum.'
I said, 'Beat the what?'
He said, 'Beat the Retreat.'
I said, 'Nay, that's one thing as I'll never beat;

I'll beat y' the Charge, or I'll beat the Tattoo,
But I'm British and Yorkshire, ba goom!
And though you're Napoleon, I'll see thee blowed,
If I'll beat the Retreat on my drum!'

Then, scratching his-self under t'arm once again,
In the way Boneyparte always did,
He said, 'Sacre bloo!' which is French for 'Ba goom',
'Eh, thou hast got a sauce for a kid.'

Then he called Josephine (Josephine wor his Queen)
And he said, 'Tell this lad, Josephine,
If he don't beat Retreat on his drum,
He'll be shot, aye, and put underneath Guil-li-o-tine.'

So she put her arm round me, and stroking me 'air,
She whispered, 'Hush, hush now - coom, coom!
Be a good lad - do as Boneyparte tells thee,
And beat the Retreat on thy drum!'

I said 'Missus, nay!' then she started to cry,
And she murmured, 'O, lad, you are too sweet to die;
And hast thou a mother who loves thee?' she sobbed.
I said, 'Aye, and she's Yorkshire, ba goom!
And she'd beat the Retreat on me trousers
If I were to beat the Retreat on me drum!'

Then Boneyparte, scratching his-self once again,
Said 'My lad, I've a Mother like her,'
And, taking his medals off with his two hands
And unpinning his gold Croix de Guerre,

He put them on me, kissed me on both cheeks,
Then pulled me outside of the tent,
And leading me up to his Army,
And scratching his-self under t'arm as he went,

'Soldiers of France,' he cried,
'This is Sam Small, he's a hero, though only a kid,
'E-coutez, mes braves, et com-prenez toute suite!
What do you think this lad did?

"Beat the Retreat on thy drum!" said I.
"Beat the Retreat on thy drum!"
And this lad refused, though I said he should die,
Why did he refuse?' I said, 'I'll tell 'em why,

For two reasons I wouldn't beat the Retreat,
Though I knew that it meant kingdom come;
One reason was somebody pinched both me sticks,
And the other... I'd busted me drum.'


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Subject: ADD: Yorkshire Pudden (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 20 Sep 22 - 06:48 AM

YORKSHIRE PUDDEN
(Weston and Lee)

Hi waitress, excuse me a minute, now listen,
I'm not finding fault, but here, Miss,
The 'taters look gradely... the beef is a'reet,
But what kind of pudden is this?

It's what?... Yorkshire pudden!, now coom, coom, coom, coom,
It's what? Yorkshire pudden d'ye say!
It's pudden, I'll grant you... it's some sort of pudden,
But not Yorkshire pudden... nay nay!

The real Yorkshire pudden's a dream in batter,
To make one's an art, not a trade,
Now listen to me, for I'm going to tell thee,
How t' first Yorkshire pudden wor made.

A young angel on furlough from heaven,
Came flying above Ilkley Moor,
And this angel, poor thing, got cramp in her wing,
And coom down at owd woman's door.

The owd woman smiled and said, 'Ee, it's an angel,
Well I am surprised to see thee,
I've not seen an angel before... but thou 'rt welcome,
I'll make thee a nice cup o' tea.'

The angel said, 'Ee, thank you kindly, I will',
Well, she had two or three cups of tea,
Three or four Sally Lunns, and a couple of buns...
Angels eat very lightly you see.

The owd woman looking at clock said,
'By Gum! He's due home from mill is my Dan,
You get on wi' ye tea, but you must excuse me,
I must make pudden now for t' owd man.

Then the angel jumped up and said,
'Gimme the bowl... Flour and watter and eggs, salt an' all,
And I'll show thee how we make puddens in Heaven,
For Peter and Thomas and Paul'.

So t' owd woman gave her the things, and the angel,
Just pushed back her wings and said. 'Hush'
Then she tenderly tickled the mixture wi' t' spoon,
Like an artist would paint with his brush.

Aye, she mixed up that pudden with Heavenly magic,
She played with her spoon on that dough,
Just like Paderewski would play the piano.
Or Kreisler now deceased would twiddle his bow.

And then it wor done and she put it in t' oven
She said t' owd woman, 'Goodbye',
Then she flew away leaving the first Yorkshire pudden,
That ever was made... and that's why...

It melts in the mouth, like the snow in the sunshine,
As light as a maiden's first kiss,
As soft as the fluff on the breast of a dove...
Not elephant's leather, like this.

It's real Yorkshire pudden that makes Yorkshire lassies,
So buxum and broad in the hips,
It's real Yorkshire pudden that makes Yorkshire cricketers,
Win County championships.

It's real Yorkshire pudden that gives me my dreams,
Of a real Paradise up above,
Where at the last trump, I'll queue up for a lump,
Of the real Yorkshire pudden I love.

And there on a cloud... far away from the crowd,
In a real Paradise, not a dud 'un,
I'll do nowt for ever... and ever and ever,
But gollup up real Yorkshire pudden.


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Subject: ADD: Sam Drummed Out (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 21 Sep 22 - 05:42 AM

SAM DRUMMED OUT
(R.P. Weston and Bert Lee)


When a lad's been drummed out of the Army,
He's an outcast despised by all men;
I'd rather be shot at dawn any old time
'Cause I never get up before ten.

Once I was drummed out, tho' today I'm a hero
With all that a soldier could wish.
Ay, once poor old Sam stood before a Court Martial
With head bowed in shame and anguish.

And the old Colonel said, when he 'eard the charge read,
'It's a terrible crime, Sam,' said he,
And the whisper went round 'Has old Sam
Been a traitor to his King and his country'?'

Nay, nay, I was charged with a crime worse than that,
Far more dastardly wicked and mean.
I were charged with maliciously putting cold water
In beer in the Sergeant's canteen.

And the Colonel's voice shook and he swallowed a lump
And he said 'Nay, nay, come, come, ee dear, dear,
Good beer is the lifeblood of our glorious army
Our battles was all won on beer.'

'What have you got to say to this terrible charge?'
I said, 'Nowt.'
He said, 'Nowt?'
I said, 'Nowt.'

He said, 'Can't you say owt but nowt?'
I said, 'No, nowt.'
'Well,' he said, 'Sam,
Then you'll be drummed out.

Next morning the company lined on parade
I stood at attention quite stiff;
Then the Sergeant stepped forward and knocked off my pillbox
And worse - he untidied me quiff.

Then he pulled out his sword and cut off me coat buttons
Them buttons fell 'clink' on the floor;
But when he began on me trousers I said
'Don't lower me prestige any more.'

Then he pulled off me medals, me twenty-five medals
I'd won out in different parts.
But I said to him, 'Oi, give me two of them back,
'Cause I won them there two playing darts.'

Then the drums and the pipes played the Rogues March
And the Colonel he sobbed and said, 'Sam,
You're no longer a Soldier, I'm sorry to say
Sam, Sam, you're a dirty old man.'

And soon I was outside the old barrack gates
With the tears rolling all down me face;
Then up rode the Colonel's young daughter, God bless her,
The pride of the Regiment, our Grace.

She said 'What's to do, Sam?'
I said 'What's to do, I'm drummed out lass for watering beer.'
Then she fell off her 'orse, threw her arms round me neck
And said 'Sam, you poor innocent dear.'

Then she rushed to her father, the Colonel, and said,
'Say, papa, I'll hand you the dope.
Poor Sam here is innocent, I did the deed
I was told to by my Band of Hope.'

Then the Colonel said, 'Corporal Sam, please come back.'
I said 'Nay, nay, I've just been drummed out.
Then the Colonel said 'Sergeant Sam, Sergeant Sam, please.
I just shrugged and said 'Nowt doing, nowt.'

He said 'Lieutenant Sam, come forgive and forget.'
But I stamped and said 'Nay, nay begone.'
Then he said 'Captain Sam.'
I said 'Captain, tut tut, make it Major and then I'll clock on.'

And that's how I won me Commission, me lads,
A commission I think I well earned
Ten per cent on the heer, ten per cent on the stout
And the pennies on bottles returned.

And the Regiment gave me a tankard inscribed with these words
Which I'm proud of I am
'Presented by First Lancashire Fuisilliers
To their champion liar, old Sam.'


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Subject: ADD: St. George and the Dragon (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 21 Sep 22 - 06:11 AM

ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON
(R.P. Weston & Bert Lee)

Some folks'll boast about their family trees,
And there's some trees they ought to lop;
But our family tree, believe me, goes right back,
You can see monkeys sitting on top!

To give you some idea of our family tree,
And don't think I'm boastin' nor braggin',
My great, great, great, great, great, great, great Uncle George,
Wor the Saint George who slaughtered the Dragon.

Aye, he wor a blacksmith, not one of the sort
Who shoe horses and sing anvil chorusses,
He used to shoe Dinasauss - big woolly Elephants,
Thumping great Brontosauruses.

Well, one day while he shod a Brontosauruses, 
A feller ran into the forge,
He wor shivering with fright and his face pale and white, 
And when he got his breath he said 'George - 

'Eh, I've just seen a dragon, a whopping great dragon,'
And uncle said 'Seen what? A dragon! 
Thou'd best see a doctor, you've got 'em owld lad, 
Eh, I thought you were on water wagon!'

But the fellow said, 'Nay, 'twere a big fiery dragon, 
'Twere belchin' out fire as it run!'
And Uncle George said 'I could do with a dragon 
With coal now at two quid a ton.'

And the feller said 'Eh, but what's more
I've just heard that the old Baron up at the Castle
Says, him as kills Dragon can marry his daughter,
She's lovely and she's worth a parcel.'

Then fellow goes off and old Uncle George thinks,
Of the brass and the bride in old satin,
So he brings out his pup and a pair of his ferrets,
And says to 'em 'We're going ratting.'

The ferrets they cocked up their noses with joy,
And the old Bull pup's tail kept a-waggin',
Then Uncle George shoves 'em a'side rabbit hole,
And says to 'em 'Go on, fetch Dragon.'

Then suddenly he smells a sulphery smell,
Then he sees a big gigantic lizzard,
With smoke coming out of its eyes and its ear'oles,
And flames coming out of its gizzard.

And was George afraid? Yes, he was and he run,
And he hid there in one of the ditches,
While the Dragon, the pig, ate his ferrets and pup,
Aye, best of his prize-winning er - she dogs.

Then George said 'Gad zooks! I'll split thee to the wizzen,
By Gum, but he were in a fury,
And he runs to a junk shop, and buys a spear,
And he pinches a Drayhorse from Brew'ry.

Then he sallies forth with a teatray on chest,
On his head he'd a big copper kettle,
With a couple of flat irons to throw at the Dragon,
Owd George were a real man of mettle!

At last he meets Dragon beside of the pump,
Dragon sees him and breathes fire and slaughter,
But George he were ready and in Dragon's mouth,
He just throws a big pail of water!

The Dragon's breath sizzled he'd put out the fire,
Our family are all clever fellows!
Then so as that owd Dragon can't blow up more fire,
With his big spear he punctures his bellows.

Then finding he'd killed it, he out with his knife,
He had gumption beside other merits - 
And he cuts open Dragon, and under it's vest,
Safe and sound are the pup and the ferrets.

That night the Old Baron gave Uncle his bride,
When he saw her he fainted with horror,
She'd a face like a kite, worse than that the old Baron
Said 'George, you'll be Saint George tomorrow.'

'Course, as St George t'were no drinking nor smoking, 
They barred him horse racing as well, 
And poor old St George, when he looked at his Bride, 
Used to wish that old Dragon to... Blazes!

And he got so fed up with this being a Saint,
And the Princess he'd won always naggin',
That he bunked off one day and he opened a pub,
And he called it the 'George and the Dragon.

And he did a fine trade, eh, for years and for years.
People all came from near and from far there
Just to see Uncle George and the Dragon which he had had,
Stuffed and hung up in the bar there.

T'were a thousand feet long and three hundred feet 'wide, 
But one day while a big crowd observed it,
It fell off the nail, and squashed Uncle George, 
And the blinking old liar deserved it.
 


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Subject: ADD: Josh U AH (Geo. Arthurs & Bert Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 25 Sep 22 - 07:09 AM

This one was written before R P Weston & Bert Lee worked together thanks to the film The Young Ones I already knew the chorus

Josh U AH
written by George Arthurs and Bert Lee 1912

Joshuah courted Miss May
To be correct I should say
She courted him for he was so shy
Dare not say Boo although' no one knew why
They walked out for months and for months
But he never asked her to wed
They'd sit hand in hand where the soft shadows fall
He'd sit there for hours and say nothing at all
So one night May blushingly said,

Chorus: Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Why don't you call and see Mama
She'll be pleased to know
You are my best beau
Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Nicer than lemon squash you are
Yes, by gosh you are
Josh-u-osh-u-ah.

Joshua said he would call
But never meant to at all
He'd never met May's loving mamma
But he'd heard something of what mammas are
Each night he would see May to her gate
But never would venture inside
He'd give her a kiss and he'd wish her goodnight
Then quicker than thought he would vanish from sight
Whenever May lovingly cried.

Chorus:Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Why don't you call and see Mama
She'll be pleased to know
You are my best beau
Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Nicer than lemon squash you are
Yes, by gosh you are
Josh-u-osh-u-ah.

They met a lady one day
“Oh look, there's Mother.” said May.
Joshua stared, said May with a sigh
“She is my step-mother, younger than I
The couple were soon introduced
He gazed with surprise at mamma
Perhaps he preferred her, perhaps lost his head
But Joshua married the Mother instead
And May never sings now to Pa.

Chorus: Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Why don't you call and see Mama
She'll be pleased to know
You are my best beau
Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Nicer than lemon squash you are
Yes, by gosh you are
Josh-u-osh-u-ah.


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Subject: ADD: The Broken-Down Showman (Weston & Carter)
From: Monologue John
Date: 26 Sep 22 - 11:09 AM

THE BROKEN-DOWN SHOWMAN
Written and composed by Frank Carter & R.P. Weston - 1902

 
I'm the owner of a tupp'ny show, and once it was unique
With crocodiles and animiles, and every kind of freak
And people came from miles to see the great managerie
But now the lot has gone to pot, oh what a catastrophee
The wax-works started first, for on a wint'ry day
They sat by the side of the fire, they did, and melted clean away
The Salvation Army claimed the Zulu Chief
The Fasting lady choked herself by eating Yankee beef
When I told the crocodile, oh, he began to laugh
He opened his 'tater-trap' so wide, he giggled himself in half.

Chorus: Oh! Our show, it's sending me off my crust
The Fat Girl's had a puncture, and her air balloons have bust
The clown, to chaff, he struggles hard, not half
But only one of the poor hyenas ever attempts to laugh.

The Magic Man, who conjured with a borrowed watch and chain
Has disappeared with someone's watch and hasn't come back again
The Lion Tamer can't perform, he hasn't got the breath
His wife, you know, comes in the show and frightens the man to death
And out Trick Bicyclist, he can't sit on his bike
He sat on the top of the porcupine, and now he's got the spike,
The Fat Boy got eaten by the Hottentots
The spotted girl has had a bath and washed off all her spots
And our Bearded Lady, it's a fact, upon my life
Has collared the Skeleton's trousers and gone back to his lawful wife.

Chorus: Oh! Our show, it's driving me quite insane
The Boneless Man's tied up in knots and can't get out again
And now, you see, we've got no chimpanzee
The p'lice have collared the monkey
And they reckon they've captured me.

The man who used to swallow swords does nothing now but groan
This morning while at lunch he went a swallowed a mackerel bone
The Zebra went and quarrelled with the double-jointed cow
She chewed his football jersey off - he's only a donkey now
The Lion-Faced Lady was a draw, without a doubt
Till some of the terrible boys commenced a-pulling her whiskers out
And some dirty person acted most unkind
Took our performing fleas and left the other sort behind
When I go to Windsor for King Edward, don't you see
He'll reckon I'm catching him on the hop without a performing flea.

Chorus: Oh! our show, it's terrible, 'pon my soul
The Elephant's packed up his trunk, the bear's gone up the pole
The Kangaroo has hopped it from the Zoo
And all the camels have got the hump, and so has your humble too.


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Subject: ADD:Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?-Bert Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 27 Sep 22 - 02:19 PM

HELLO, HELLO, WHO'S YOUR LADY FRIEND
Written and composed by Worton David/Harry Fragson & Bert Lee - 1913
Performed by Mark Sheridan (1867-1918)
 
Jeremiah Jones a lady's man was he
Every pretty girl he loved to spoon
Till he found a wife and down by the sea
Went to Margate for the honeymoon
But when he strolled along the promenade
With his little wife just newly wed
He got an awful scare
When someone strolling there
Came up to him and winked and said,

Chorus: Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?
Who's the little girlie by your side
I've seen you with a girl or two
Oh. Oh. Oh, I am surprised at you
Hello, Hello, stop your little games
Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?
It isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton
Who, Who, who's your lady friend.

Jeremiah Jones took his wife's mamma one night
Round to see a moving picture show
There up on the screen a picture came in sight
Jeremiah cried, “He'd better go”
For on that picture there was Jeremiah
With a pretty girl up on his knee
Ma cried, “What does it mean?”
Then pointing to the screen
The people yelled at Jones with glee,

Chorus:Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?
Who's the little girlie by your side
I've seen you with a girl or two
Oh. Oh. Oh, I am surprised at you
Hello, Hello, stop your little games
Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?
It isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton
Who, Who, who's your lady friend.

Jeremiah now has settled down in life
Said goodbye to frills and furbelows 
Never thinks of girls except his darling wife
Always takes her everywhere he goes
By Jove, why there he is you naughty boy
With a lady too, you're rather free
Of course you'll stake your life
The lady is your wife
But tell me on the strict Q.T.

Chorus: Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?
Who's the little girlie by your side
I've seen you with a girl or two
Oh. Oh. Oh, I am surprised at you
Hello, Hello, stop your little games
Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?
It isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton
Who, Who, who's your lady friend.

Christmas pantomime was Jones's chief delight
Once he madly loved the Fairy Queen
There behind the scenes he spooned with her one night
Some one for a lark pulled up the scenes
And there was poor old Jones up on the stage
With his arms around the lady fair
The house began to roar
From Gallery down to floor
Then everybody shouted there,

Chorus:Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?
Who's the little girlie by your side
I've seen you with a girl or two
Oh. Oh. Oh, I am surprised at you
Hello, Hello, stop your little games
Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?
It isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton
Who, Who, who's your lady friend.
 


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Subject: ADD: Boys of the Chelsea School (Carter & Weston)
From: GUEST,Monologue John
Date: 29 Sep 22 - 01:31 PM

This one appears to be the first song that R P Weston sold to Francis Day & Hunter he was paired with Frank W Carter What the song says of his character I will leave to you to decide The Chelsea was a military one

BOYS OF THE CHELSEA SCHOOL
written by Frank Carter & R P Weston 1902

Dad is now Old and having earned his pension
Needed no more his soldier blood run cool
Pleasures he finds his attention
Watching the youngsters in the Chelsea School
Only youngster learning their vocation
Learning the calling that their fathers chose
Only youngsters tended by the nation
To fight someday Britainnias foes
Dad loves these boys why?
Tis thus he will reply

Chorus
Boys of the Chelsea School
And the sons of the men we admire
In every heart In every vein
Runs the blood of a soldier sire


Oft around his knee they'd gather for a story
Tales of the charge at the Balaclava height
Once more he lives the ride of death or glory
Ah T'was an error but a glorious fight
Faces flush while eagerly they glisten
Fingers are twitching though their lips are dumb
Tells him someday their chance may come
Then they will do once more
As he did in Fifty four

Chorus
Boys of the Chelsea School
And the sons of the men we admire
In every heart In every vein
Runs the blood of a soldier sire


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Subject: ADD: Lloyd George's Beer (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Sep 22 - 04:07 PM

This is mentioned as the first one RP Weston & Bert Lee after pairing up

LLOYD GEORGE'S BEER
written by R P Weston & Bert Lee 1915

We shall win the war, we shall win the war,
As I said before, we shall win the war.
The Kaiser’s in a dreadful fury,
Now he knows we’re making it at every brewery.
Have you read of it, seen what’s said of it,
In the Mirror and the Mail.
It’s a substitute, and a pubstitute,
And it’s known as Government Ale (or otherwise).
Lloyd George’s Beer, Lloyd George’s Beer.
At the brewery, there’s nothing doing,
All the water works are brewing,
Lloyd George’s Beer, it isn’t dear.
Oh they say it’s a terrible war, oh law,
And there never was a war like this before,
But the worst thing that ever happened in this war
Is Lloyd George’s Beer.
Buy a lot of it, all they’ve got of it.
Dip your bread in it, Shove your head in it
From January to October,
And I’ll bet a penny that you’ll still be sober.
Get your cloth in it, make some broth in it,
With a pair of mutton chops.
Drown your dogs in it, pop your clogs in it,
And you’ll see some wonderful sights (in that lovely stufo).
Lloyd George’s Beer, Lloyd George’s Beer.
At the brewery, there’s nothing doing,
All the water works are brewing,
Lloyd George’s Beer, it isn’t dear.
With Haig and Joffre when affairs look black,
And you can’t get at Jerry with his gas attack.
Just get your squirters out and we’ll squirt the buggers back,
With Lloyd George’s Beer.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 06 Oct 22 - 06:32 AM

I Shall See you Tonight
Written and Composed by Clay Smith R P Weston & Bert Lee 1917
Sung by Miss Lee White in 'Cheep'

Dear Heart tho' you are miles away
And Ocean's roll between us dear
I know your love is still sincere
I see you every night
And I'm not sad tho' all alone
A thousand times a day
My heart's on love's own telephone
Rings up your heart to say


I shall See you tonight dear
In my beautiful dream land
And your eyes will be bright dear
With love light that gleams for me
To my heart I will press you
I will kiss and Caress you
So Goodbye and God bless You
I will seed You Tonight


Your arms around me gently steal
Your Kisses on my cheek I feel
Thou just in dream it feels so real
I see you every night
And soon the sun will shine again
As bright as e'er it shone
I will find my dreams come true
Till then we'll carry on

I shall See you tonight dear
In my beautiful dream land
And your eyes will be bright dear
With love light that gleams for me
To my heart I will press you
I will kiss and Caress you
So Goodbye and God bless You
I will seed You Tonight


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 06:27 AM

FAIR, FAT AND FORTY
Written by R P Weston & Bert Lee 1920

Performed by Whit Cunliffe (1876-1966)
Performed by Florrie Forde (1876-1940)

Some Ladies will give anything
To keep themselves in fashion
The latest craze for slimming now
They think it's smart and dashing
That sort of thing don't worry me
I can do without it
I can run and jump, but not too much
There's not a doubt about it.
Chorus: I'm fair, fat and forty
I'm sound in wind and limb
Folks may smile but I don't heed
I'm built for comfort not not speed
The men just think I'm wonderful
At least that's what they say
Oh, I'm fair, fat and forty
Getting younger every day.
Some people say I was drawn up
By a ship's designer
My mainstay might be big but
My jib could not be finer
While bathing in the sea one day
And floating round the sereneo
A boatman shouted, 'Blimey Bill,
Here comes a submarino!'
Chorus: I'm fair, fat and forty
I'm feeling full of vim
The boys just won't leave me alone
I'm something to cuddle, not skin and bone
My chassis may be bulky but the steering gear's okay
Oh, I'm fair, fat and forty
Getting younger every day.
 


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 06:31 AM

DREAMING A DREAM
Joseph Tunbridge (m) Jack Waller (m) Harry Weston (m) Bert Lee (l) R P Weston (l) 1934

Al Bowlly w Ray Noble & his Orch rec Aug 30th 1934 London

Dreaming a dream,
Night and day I am far, far away.
Dreaming a dream,
I hear somebody tenderly say
Loving words of devotion,
And the joy is so tender, so sweet,
I am so thrilled with emotion,
I can feel my heart beat, beat, beat, beating!

Dreaming a dream,
I'm at home in the cottage I prize,
Watching the gleam
Of the love light in somebody's eyes!
Closer to her side I creep and fall asleep,
Then wake with empty arms and weep;
I am dreaming a dream
That may ne'er come true.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 06:31 AM

DREAMING A DREAM
Joseph Tunbridge (m) Jack Waller (m) Harry Weston (m) Bert Lee (l) R P Weston (l) 1934

Al Bowlly w Ray Noble & his Orch rec Aug 30th 1934 London

Dreaming a dream,
Night and day I am far, far away.
Dreaming a dream,
I hear somebody tenderly say
Loving words of devotion,
And the joy is so tender, so sweet,
I am so thrilled with emotion,
I can feel my heart beat, beat, beat, beating!

Dreaming a dream,
I'm at home in the cottage I prize,
Watching the gleam
Of the love light in somebody's eyes!
Closer to her side I creep and fall asleep,
Then wake with empty arms and weep;
I am dreaming a dream
That may ne'er come true.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 06:57 AM

Any Dirty Work Today

yrics
Weston
Music
Lee
Roud
29705
Music Hall Performers
George Carney
Folk performances
Source Singers
Brenda Bentall, 1970, England
Bob Keightley, 1979, London, England
We’re here! We're here! Do you want any murders done today?
D'ya hear? D'ya hear? If you want anybody put out of the way
Call the old established firm, your old good friends in need.
Families waited on daily, the best work guaranteed!

Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to murder your mother-in-law for a shilling.
If you've got a wife or two, you want put out of the way,
We are the boys to do the job. We do them in, a bob a nob,
Here you are then!  There for a bob! Any dirty work today?
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to kill any lady's old man for a shilling.
So if he's shabby and worn-out, while you're still young and gay
Let's put strychnine in his tea! Rely on us the secrecy,
You ask the lady at number three! Any dirty work today?
 
We’re here! We're here! We're the original dirty dogs.
D'ye hear! D'ye hear! If you want a good murder, see our catalogues
Poisonings done for eighteen pence, and that includes the dose.
And we've some glorious deaths in stock at one-and-nine per gross.
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to strangle a cat or a dog for a shilling.
For tuppence we’ll ring your landlords bell and run away.
If there’s anyone you hate, for ninepence when the hour is late,
We’ll chalk rude words on his garden gate! Any dirty work today?
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to burn any house to the ground for a shilling.
The petrol costs us eight pence, you may think it doesn’t pay;
For fourpence profit doesn’t sound a lot, but we’ve got a decent round
And sixty fourpences make a pound: Any dirty work today?
 
We’re here! We're here! Now does anyone want a quick divorce?
D'ye hear! D'ye hear! We can make it easy as backing a horse
Evidence we can wangle in a way they can’t detect
“Homes broken up on the shortest notice!” “Happy firesides wrecked”
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to get your evidence up for a shilling.
If you’ve a wife that’s as good and pure as flowers that bloom in May
Pay a bob, then up we creep, black her face while she’s asleep,
And swear we saw her kissing the sweep: Any dirty work today?
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to settle a newly born babe for a shilling.
We’ll wait out on the stairs until the doctor’s gone away,
Then grab the baby from the nurse, no mess, no trouble and no fuss
Lend us a pail and leave it to us: Any dirty work today?
 
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to cut off a nanny goat’s beard for a shilling.
And if the dairy farmers says: “Your bill you’ve got to pay!”
For fourpence round his cows will sneak, we’ll feed them on onions for a week;
He’ll get no milk because they’ll spring a leak: Any dirty work today?
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to trip up old ladies for 3 and a shilling.
For Fourpence down, we'll have high tea at Lyon’s café
And though the menus plainly says: No tips allowed!
We’ll watch and wait, then slip a penny beneath the plate! Any dirty work today?
Another song from Weston and Lee, though this one doesn’t appear quite so well remembered in the folk world. It has only been found three times in the south of England, the recording by Brenda Bentall is listed on the VWML site, the other 2 are not that can be found in the British Library Sound archive.
I can’t find a lot about George Carney’s (1847-1947) career in the halls, other than that he once appeared with Fred Karno as a sketch artist. In his early life, he worked both in the Liverpool Cotton Exchange and the Belfast shipyards. From 1913 he increasingly became involved in the film industry, first as a character actor and later as a director.
I think this is a song worth singing, the black humour appeals to me! If you agree check out the recording of Bob Keighley below.
Sources:
VWML entry
Kilgarrif Sing Us
Fred Carney at IMDB
Lyrics transcribed from recording of Bob Keightley at British Library sounds

Last Updated on July 11, 2020


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 12:02 PM

All the girls are busy knitting jumpers or he Jumper Song 1919
Writer/composer
Weston and Lee

Music Hall Performers
Will Evans
Folk performances
Source Singers
Pritchard, Howard 1962 England : Gloucestershire
Chappell, Bill 1970 England : Lincolnshire
As transcribed on GlosTrad site

Now Baa Baa black sheep have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir, I’ve three bags full.
Then give me your ’ot un let your mutton go bare,
For all the girls are busy knit ting jumpers ev’ry where.
And there ain’t one that’s worth three and six as a rule,
It takes ten pairs of needles and two tons of wool.
 
But all the girls they’re busy knitting jumpers,
Busy knitting jumpers all day long.
Can’t you hear the jumper girls saying
"First two plain and then two purl,
Knit one slip one, make a stitch and drop one."
Leave the needles in the chair,
So that Pa with the hump’s got to do the jumpers’ jump.
Shouting "Jumpers, jumpers, jumpers ev’ry where!"
 
Miss Jane Jones had jumpers on the brain
Her young man said "Wed me, Jane"
Said Jane "You must wait ’till my jumper’s done, Jack."
He went away for seven years but when he came back
She was still saying "Two plain" and Jack said "Ta ta."
You keep saying two plain and by gosh you are."
 
Now in the trams and buses they’ll sit,
And they knit, knit, knit, knit knit, knit, knit.
They purchase the wool at a guinea a pound,
And they gets a lot of little holes and puts the wool around.
At ninepence a stitch, jumpers cost quite a lot,
And the little holes between ’em cost God knows what!
 
A song from the 1920s , remembered by traditional singers 40 or 50 years later.
After the Great War there was a craze in the UK for knitting, apparently people stopped knitting for the troops, and started knitting for themselves. This song was written by the prolific Weston and Lee, and was sung in the pantomime Cinderella by Will Evans. The performance apparently involved a chorus line of men in drag knitting in time to the song. (See also Lloyd George of Criccieth )


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 12:55 PM

Do you want us to lose the war
Weston / Lee 1917








Music Hall Performers
Sam Mayo
Folk performances
Source Singers
Unklnown, 1960 England : Sheffield
Porter, Bill 1961 England : Sussex
Modern performances
Coope, Boyes and Simpson
From 1917 sheet music

A lady went to the butcher’s shop for half a pound of meat.
The butcher carved her off a slice that wasn’t very sweet.
She sniffed at it and said, “Oh dear, is that the best you’ve got?
It smells too high for me to buy”, the butcher shouted, “What?

Do you want us to lose the war? Do you want us to lose the war?
It’s not very tasty I’ll freely admit,
But you’ve got to ’ave it and put up with it.
You can’t stop that old cow from doing its bit.
Do you want us to lose the war?”

A soldier sat with a lady fair inside the park one night
He squeezed and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed and then he squeezed her tight
She said "I'm married, you must know, and so I can't kiss you"
The soldiers said "I shan't go back to camp until you do.

Do you want us to lose the war? Do you want us to lose the war?
And when she got back to her husband, what sauce!
He had her brought up to the court for divorce.
Said the judge: "Is it true?" And she answered "Of course -.
Do you want us to lose the war?”

Oh, Brown sat in the Rose and Crown and talked about the war.
He dipped his finger in ’is beer and then began to draw.
Said he, “Now here’s the British lines and here’s the German foe.”
Then the potman shouted “Time!”, and Brown said, “’Alf a mo’!

Do you want us to lose the war? Do you want us to lose the war?
I’d mapped it all out we were certain to win,
Then you shouted out “Time!” and I think it’s a sin.
With another ’alf pint we’d ’ave been in Berlin.
Do you want us to lose the war?”

A youth and maid went for a walk one night not far from here.
The girl said to her boy: "I wish you'd buy some chocolate's dear!"
He went into a shop for some, with cunning in his eyes,
The shopman nearly had a fit, and answered with surprise:

Do you want us to lose the war? Do you want us to lose the war?
Then said as he picked up the seven-pound weight,
"Get out of it quick or I'll murder you straight!
Fancy asking for chocolates at twenty past eight!
Do you want us to lose the war?
An early 20th century Music Hall song remembered by traditional singers in the 1960s, though various new verses seem to have been added over time.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 02:52 PM

I’ve got rings on my fingers or The Irish Nabob
Written by RP Weston and FJ Barnes Music by Maurice Scott

Music Hall Performers
Ellaline Terriss
Now Jim O'Shea was cast away
Upon an Indian Isle.
The natives there they liked his hair,
They liked his Irish smile,
So made him chief Panjandrum,
The Nabob of them all.
They called him Jij-ji-boo Jhai,
And rigged him out so gay,
So he wrote to Dublin Bay,
To his sweetheart, just to say:

Sure, I've got rings on my fingers, bells on my toes,
Elephants to ride upon, my little Irish Rose;
So come to your Nabob, and next Patrick's Day,
Be Mistress Mumbo Jumbo Jij-ji-boo J. O'Shea.

Across the sea went Rose Magee
To see her Nabob grand.
He sat within his palanquin,
And when she kissed his hand,
He led her to his harem,
Where he had wives galore.
She started shedding a tear;
Said he, "Now have no fear,
I'm keeping these wives here
Just for ornament, my dear."

In emerald green he robed his queen,
To share with him his throne.
'Mid eastern charms and waving palms
They'd shamrocks, Irish grown,
Sent all the way from Dublin
To Nabob J. O'Shea
But in his palace so fine
Should Rose for Ireland pine,
With smiles her face will shine
When he murmurs, "Sweetheart mine"
A song that was written in Britain, by the prolific Bob Weston, this time with help from Barnes and Scott. It was a huge hit in America, appearing in several Broadway shows, including Captain Kidd, The Midnight Sons and The Yankee Girl.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 10 Oct 22 - 05:45 AM

It won’t last very very long or The Cinderella 1902
Lyrics RP Weston Music Frank W Carter

Music Hall Performers Harry Champion


One fine night I toddled to a dance, what the people call a 'cinderella'
I wore a button-hole, and the girls upon my soul
Said I was a 'pretty little feller'
Soon to me came Arabella Brown, pulling up her railway sock
'Oh Mr Winkle-pip, do have a waltz, it's just on twelve o' clock.

So it won't last very, very long
It won't last very, very long
Round we went till I said, 'Whoa!
They'll be trouble in a tick, I know
There's buttons on my trousers, and the pin's not over strong
Run away, Miss Brown, I must go and sit down
And it won't last very, very long.'

Late last night - oh talk about a fright,
Taking off my clobber I had just been
I was dying with the pip - went to go to 'kip'
Soon I heard a struggle in the dust-bin
Up I shoved my window in a jiff, saw a tabby cat outside
Chasing another one around the yard, 'If that's your game,' I cried.

It won't last very, very long
It won't last very, very long
Off I went and got my gun
Shot one bullet in his hot-cross-bun
Tom said, 'Now you've got a bull's eye
My bell goes ding-ding-dong
You've done quite enough to my little bit of fluff
So it won't last very, very long.'

Yesterday I went and sold my horse
Really ought to took him to the knacker's
For to make him go I always had to sew
On his tail a blooming lot of crackers
I white-washed him out in the yard
Put sticks in his ears somehow
They looked like horns, so I sold him for
A good milking cow. But,

It won't last very, very long
It won't last very, very long
The rain came down, the white-wash dripped
The old milk man a big pail gripped
His old gal said, 'What a funny cow.
Something must be wrong.'
Then cried, 'I suppose it's an overflow of milk
And it won't last very, very long.'

Last week, straight, I went and won a pig
Got it in a raffle for a tanner
I didn't want to roam, quickly took it home
And gave it to the old woman, Hannah
Friday we made jelly of its feet
Saturday we fried its head
I made a bacca-pouch of its ears
Then my old woman said,

It won't last very, very long
It won't last very, very long
All the kids they turn quite pale
When we wallop them with that pig's tail
Off its waistcoat of a night time
When baby starts his song
We cut him off a button for an indiarubber teat
So it won't last very, very long.'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 10 Oct 22 - 06:00 AM

Why shouldn’t we sing? By Weston and Lee 1916

Music Hall Performers
Florrie Forde

Down in Aberyswtith, midst the hills and dales,
Many Welshmen gathered there to sing the praise of Wales.
Hearts and voices blending in a feast of song;
Though some declared, in wartime it was wrong.
There amongst the songsters on the mountain side,
The greatest Welshman in the land stood up and said with pride;

"Sing, sing, why shouldn't we sing?
Though days are dreary, let us be cheery.
Sing, sing, let melody flow;
Are the home fires out yet?  No, no, no!
Sing, sing, why shouldn't we sing?
For there's one thing we never should forget;
Old John Bull is still alive and kicking,
And we haven't pulled the blinds down yet!

Sing a little chorus, never mind your voice.
Sing; if you were dumpy it would make your heart rejoice.
Sing although your pack boys, weighs just half a ton
Sing, and half the victoy is won.
There's a little rainbow shining in the sky;
Now we know that brighter days are coming, by and by.

Sing, sing, why shouldn't we sing?
Though days are dreary, let us be cheery.
Sing, sing, let melody flow;
Are the home fires out yet?  No, no, no!
Sing, sing, why shouldn't we sing?
For there's one thing we never should forget;
Old John Bull is still alive and kicking,
And we haven't pulled the blinds down yet!"


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 12 Oct 22 - 05:19 AM

End of me old cigar (The)
Lyrics Weston Music RP David

Music Hall performers Harry Champion, 1914

Now, twenty Christmases ago the Landlord of the 'Star'
Said 'Here's a Christmas box for you a nine-penny cigar'
I smoked it up to Easter, then my dear devoted wife
Said 'Why not throw the end away?' I said 'Not on your life.'

That's the end of my old cigar, Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!
I stroll up Piccadilly and they fancy I'm the Shah
I've kept it now for twenty years to do the la-di-da
And I'd rather lose my job then the end of my old cigar.

The other Whitsun Monday we all toddled to the zoo
I puffed away at my cigar and choked the kangaroo
And then I saw an animal that caused a lot of chaff
'Twas called the 'Um-ga-zoo-ze-lum' and just to make it laugh.

With the end of my old cigar, Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!
I tickled it beneath the chin, and then the wife's Mamma
Cried out 'It hasn't got a tail, it does look singular
So I borrowed a pin and I stuck on the end of my old cigar.

I went to see Lord Kitchener a week or two ago
I said 'I've got a great idea to kill the German foe'
I said 'If you send me out there, I'll stop their swank and bluff
Then just to show my dignity, I took another puff.

With the end of my old cigar, Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!
I said 'You leave this war to me, old cock. and there you are
If I can't kill 'em off with shells, they'll get a nasty jar
I'll poison the whole darned lot of them with the end of my old cigar.

I used to be a sailor, but when I was on the sea
The vessel struck upon a rock just off the Zuyder Zee
The Captain yelled 'We're sinking' But I said 'You're up the pole.'
And soon they saw your humble servant bunging up the hole.

With the end of my old cigar, Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!
I bunged the hole up in the ship and saved each jolly tar
But soon they shouted 'Fire' but the cabin boy said 'Bah,
He's under the boat and puffing away at the end of his old cigar.

To help the Prince of Wales' fund, and do our little share
We gave a swell bazaar down at the Mission room, and there
My wife was selling kisses to the Dukes and Earls it's true
She charged them half a sov'reign each, and I was helping too.

With the end of my old cigar, Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!
We got the Prince of Wales a thousand pounds at our bazaar
The wife was selling kisses to the swells at 'half a bar'
And I was running a peep show with the end of my old cigar.

As I was coming home one night I saw a house on fire
I thought I'd show my courage that the ladies all admire
So I climbed up a ladder, and the flames began to fight (?)
Then just to show how cool I was, I stopped to get a light.

With the end of my old cigar, Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!
Then all at once my missus shouted 'Wake up, can't you Pa
I told you not to smoke in bed, you fool, and there you are
You've burned a hole in your nightshirt with the end of your old cigar.

I went to good old Southend, and when night began to fall
I thought I'd go and have a swim behind a cockle stall
But there I found a lady who'd been washed up on the shore
She'd nothing on but seaweed, so I took another draw.

With the end of my old cigar, Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!
She shouted out to me 'Oh sir, I don't know who you are
But give me something, do, to put round my fig-ah
So I gave her the 'band' I'd taken off the end of my old cigar


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 12 Oct 22 - 07:57 AM

NEVER LET YOUR BRACES DANGLE
 Written and composed by Barnes/Weston
Recorded 1910 by Harry Champion (1866-1942)

I was one of eighteen boys, all of us wore corduroys
I was roughest of the gang, for my braces used to hang
Dangling all around my feet, and Mother used to bawl
Pointing to the text so neat, she'd hung upon the wall

Chorus: Never let your braces dangle. dingle, dingle, dangle
Never thieve, don't deceive and never row or wrangle
Stick to the right, get away from the bad
Don't get as tight as your poor old Dad
But the greatest motto of the lot, my lad
Is never let your braces dangle.

Once I went to Berkeley Hunt, I was standing well in front
But I dropped my collar stud, so I knelt down in the mud
Some short-sighted major saw my braces hung behind
Jumped up on my back, oh lor, the thought came to my mind

Chorus: Never let your braces dangle. dingle, dingle, dangle
Said fat Mac, upon my back, as me he tried to strangle
'Ho tally ho, Ho tally ho,
Ain't you a horse?' And I answered, 'No'
Then he pulled my reins, and then said 'Gee whoa'
Never let your braces dangle.

Drinking rum the other night, I set all the house alight
So I scampered up the stair, squeezing thro' the skylight there
Being fat, I stuck half way and ma-in-law below
Grabbed my braces said, 'Hooray! With you I mean to go'

Chorus: Never let your braces dangle. dingle, dingle, dangle
She said, 'John' as she hung on, 'To save me you must wangle'
After the fire when the danger was o'er
I got a bob on the medal I wore
But I couldn't get tuppence for my mother-in-law
So never let your braces dangle.

Mrs Murphy's got a mat, 'tain't the skin of some tom cat
On the floor it looks no doubt, like a man been flattened out
I said to her, 'Mary Ann, your carpet does look queer'
She said, 'That's my first old man' And whispered in my ear

Chorus: 'Never let your braces dangle. dingle, dingle, dangle
Poor old sport, he got caught, and dragged right through the mangle
Over the roller then he went, by gum
And out he came like linoleum
Now you've wiped your feet on his rum-tum-tum
So never let your braces dangle'

One night seated in the park, with a lady after dark
Kidding I was Lord Mcduff, her younger brother _ what a rough
Shouted, 'Hi, I know you by your braces round your feet'
Saying, when upon the sly, he'd tied me to the seat

Chorus: Never let your braces dangle. dingle, dingle, dangle
I was tied there side by side with Lucy, what a tangle
Up came my wife and she called me a flirt
I wriggled out of my pants for a cert.
And she yelled as she hung on to the tails of my shirt
Never let your braces dangle.

Fed on oatmeal from a kid, I got very Scotch I did
So I joined the Scotch Brigade, but first day on parade
Round my knees my braces hung and straight I blushed with guilt
Said the Colonel, 'Private Bung, when marching in your kilt.

Chorus: Never let your braces dangle. dingle, dingle, dangle
You're not built for a kilt,' said Colonel Jock Mcfangle
The wind's very high, very high on the heath
And the girls won't smile or show their teeth
If they think you've trousers underneath
So never let your braces dangle.

On a foggy afternoon once, we had to shoot the moon
On the barrow I had got, bedstead, chairs and all the lot
But I stuck it with a will, though people in the road
Shouted, while up Highgate Hill I dragged my little load

Chorus: Never let your braces dangle. dingle, dingle, dangle
Up that hill I stuck it till, my legs got in a tangle
Got to the top, said a chap, 'Here we are'
He undid my braces, and murmured 'Ta'
For I'd been 'cock-horse' to his tramway car
So never let your braces dangle.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 12 Oct 22 - 11:09 AM

Hobnailed boots that my father wore, The
Written by RP Weston & F J Barnes
Performed by Billy Williams

Poor Farver’s feet took up half the street
So his boots were in proportion
And the kids he’d squash in a day, by gosh
It really was a caution.

Now me and my brother, from the age of four
Up to eleven, used to sleep and snore
Nice and cosy in a box of straw
In the hobnailed boots that my farver wore.

On Lord Mayor’s day, just to shout hooray
Farver went and how he sauced ‘em
But he blocked the street with his big feet
And the Lord Mayor drove across ‘em.

And as he went a riding through the Guild hall door
Farver fell wallop on his back, oh lor'
And the crowd stopped hooraying then, for all they saw
Were the hobnailed boots that my Farver wore.

I’ve got good teeth, and it’s my belief
I must thank Farver for it
For if we’ve got coke and we want it broke
I pick it up and gnaw it.

You’ve all got to eat a peck of dirt or more
Before you snuff it, it’s a wise old saw
Well I’ve had my whack, I cut me teeth - oh lor'
On the hobnailed boots that my Farver wore.

When young Kate and Flo went to Southend, so
As money they’d be saving
Farver’s boot was seen as a bathing machine
In it, they undressed for bathing.

While they were undressing, they forgot, I’m sure
The Farver’d cut for his corn - oh lor'
Now the boys are a giggling at what they saw
In the hobnailed boots that my Farver wore.

We had a goat with a cast iron throat
Though he never used to bite us
Farver’s boots he chewed, and the goat they slewed
For he died of appendicitis

Now that goat had whiskers, and they touched the floor
And when they were plaited by the kids next door
Made the finest laces that you ever saw
For the hobnailed boots that my farver wore.

We took a trip on a great big ship
But my farver, so misguided
Wouldn’t walk about with his legs stretched out
So the ship it went lopsided.

Down went the vessel through a hole in the floor
And all ‘cept the captain’s mother-in-law
Were saved that night, for they rode ashore
In the hobnailed boots that farver wore.

Farver worked one day, building ships they say
For the Navy down at Chatham
And some German spies opened wide their eyes
When his big boots they looked at ‘em.

When those spies from Germany his big boots saw
They wired to the Kaiser “Build two ships more”
What they thought were Britannia ships-of war
Were the hobnailed boots that farver wore.

When I went to school Oh I looked a fool
For one day when we were drilling
My teacher said, “Toe the line, fathead.”
And I did, though most unwilling.

Said she, “Don’t keep backing through the school house door
But just toe the line, as I’ve told you before
“Oh he has towed the line” said the kids with a roar
In the hobnailed boots that farver wore.

The afternoon that we shot the moon
All the tallymen we took in
For we paid ‘em nix and we moved our sticks
While the landlord stood there lookin’.

But my farver he walked as if his feet were sore
As he limped up the ally to the Old Brown Boar
For we’d tucked the piano in the toes, oh lor'
Of the hobnailed boots that farver wore.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 12 Oct 22 - 02:22 PM

Here comes OXO written by
RP Weston and Fred Barnes
Performed Billy Williams

Now, Two little bow-legged boys
And one little knock-kneed kid
Knocked their heads, I mean their legs
Together oh yes they did.
Said the one with the legs like X
'You two have legs like O's
But stand by me and I'll get all three
Good food and the finest clothes.'
So out they went all three
And the people yelled with glee:

Here comes OXO, O-X-O, Oxo.'
While the kids walked down the street
They advertised extract of meat.
With gaily coloured socks, Oh, they chase the fairer sex
While the bow-legged boys walked one each side,
Of the kiddie with legs like X

These three little Oxo boys
The Oxo firm soon found
Went in all three to the Company
And demanded a thousand pounds.
Said the boss with a smiling face:
'You're a good advert I know,'
And they gave each kid a hundred quid
And told them they could go.
And as they marched away
You could hear the people say:

These three little Oxo boys
With the cash they got that day
On pleasure to the country went
But they met three bulls, they say.
These three little Oxo boys
Were tossed up by each bull
With pants all burst
They came head first
Through a skylight on the school.
As through the air they fell,
The scholars gave a yell:


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Oct 22 - 05:47 AM

Rawtenstall Annual fair or At Rawtenstall Fair
Written by R P Weston & Bert Lee
Performed by Randolph Sutton


As written by Weston and Lee and recorded by Randolph Sutton
Just behind the gasworks down in Rawtenstall
That's a little town in Lancashire
They'd some fun up there, ee they did an all
Last Friday week they had a fair up theer
They had coconuts swings and figure eights
Switchback robots and a roundabout
Eeh and everyone said what gradely fun
When the lads and lasses heard the showman shout

Walk up walk up come and see the fat girl
Forty stone of loveliness and every bit her own
Oh what a picture with the accent on the pig
Farmers with their walking sticks were giving her a dig
But the gradely lassie didn't say that her chassis
Had been blown up with gas I do declare
She really looked lovely until a silly clown
Stuck a pin in her said the showman with a frown
All hands to the pump lass, the vessel's going down
At the Rawtenstall Annual Fair

Walk up walk up see the house of mystery
Ladies pay a tanner and be tickled in the dark
In went the women saying ee but this is cheap
Showman pulled the lever and they all fell in a heap
Through a hole they shot and when they got to the bottom
There were frills and flounces everywhere
The girls started screaming it caused a lot of strife
I never saw so many legs and stockings in my life
I saw some funny things I'd only seen upon the wife
At the Rawtenstall Annual Fair

Walk up walk up come and see the mermaid
All her life alive and half a woman half a fish
In went the fellers just to see it wasn't swank
Little Johnny Higgins poured some whiskey in the tank
Well she got so frisky when she swam in the whiskey
The first time that she came up for air
She bumped in the audience and gave her tail a swish
Her tail tumbled off and she really looked delish
She shouted what do you fancy a bit of meat or a bit of fish
At the Rawtenstall Annual Fair

Walk up walk up come and get your money's worth
See the tattooed lady with the pictures on her skin
In went the fellows and they all began to cheer
For on her skin were painted all the towns of Lancashire
On her form so pretty she had Manchester City
With the town hall stuck up in the square
She'd Bolton and Bacup and Ashton-under-Lyne
The coalpits at Bardsley I thought were very fine
But they all started singing 'Daddy, Don't go down the mine'
At the Rawtenstall Annual Fair


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GUEST,Len Kennington
Date: 13 Oct 22 - 09:23 AM

The legend has it, they wrote a song a day for twenty years! Possibly an exaggeration, but their output is phenomenal. Can anyone help - R.P.Weston (1878-1936)   Bert Lee (1880-1946) then Harris Weston (son) joined the team on & off from the late 20s onward - anyone know his dates?


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Oct 22 - 11:51 AM

Revised version of Here comes OXO

Here comes OXO written by
RP Weston and Fred Barnes
Performed Billy Williams

Now, Two little bow-legged boys
And one little knock-kneed kid
Knocked their heads, I mean their legs
Together oh yes they did.
Said the one with the legs like X
'You two have legs like O's
But stand by me and I'll get all three
Good food and the finest clothes.'
So out they went all three
And the people yelled with glee:

Here comes OXO, O-X-O, Oxo.'
While the kids walked down the street
They advertised extract of meat.
With gaily coloured socks, Oh, they chase the fairer sex
While the bow-legged boys walked one each side,
Of the kiddie with legs like X

These three little Oxo boys
The Oxo firm soon found
Went in all three to the Company
And demanded a thousand pounds.
Said the boss with a smiling face:
'You're a good advert I know,'
And they gave each kid a hundred quid
And told them they could go.
And as they marched away
You could hear the people say:

Here comes OXO, O-X-O, Oxo.'
While the kids walked down the street
They advertised extract of meat.

With gaily coloured socks, Oh, they chase the fairer sex
While the bow-legged boys walked one each side,
Of the kiddie with legs like X
These three little Oxo boys
With the cash they got that day
On pleasure to the country went
But they met three bulls, they say.
These three little Oxo boys
Were tossed up by each bull
With pants all burst
They came head first
Through a skylight on the school.
As through the air they fell,
The scholars gave a yell:

Here comes OXO, O-X-O, Oxo.'
While the kids walked down the street
They advertised extract of meat.
With gaily coloured socks, Oh, they chase the fairer sex
While the bow-legged boys walked one each side,
Of the kiddie with legs like X


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 14 Oct 22 - 04:57 PM

If you meet a vessel in distress 1906
Written by R P Weston
From sheet music held by the British Music Hall Society


Standing on an ocean liner, gazing o'er the stormy sea
The Captain saw in a blinding gale
A ship in distress bearing but a rag of sail
"Standby! Lads" he gave the order"
"Standby! Till the storm has passed"
For I'll have you know, many years ago,
When a lad before the mast,
My captain always said to me,
"This is the rule, my lad at sea:"

If you should meet with a vessel in distress,
Stand by! Stand by!
Render all the aid you can,
Be he Man-o’-war or Merchantman
Sail right up and throw him out a line,
Take him in tow,
For you might want somebody to stand by you
Some day, you never know!

All of you vessels sailing, sailing o'er the seas of life,
And in the storm or in the calm sublime,
Your heart is the crew and the captain all the time;
So if sinking ships should hail you
Standby! For you must confess,
Though he flies no flag
Every tattered rag
Is a signal of distress;
He'll make the harbour safe, no doubt,
If you will help him so launch out.

If you should meet with a vessel in distress,
Stand by! Stand by!
Render all the aid you can,
Be he Man-o’-war or Merchantman
Sail right up and throw him out a line,
Take him in tow,
For you might want somebody to stand by you
Some day, you never know!


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 15 Oct 22 - 04:26 PM

In these hard times by R P Weston & Fred Barnes 1924
Performed by Whit Cunliffe

Things are bad, awful bad,
In fact they've never been worse before
But every single chappie can make a girlie happy
Food is dear, rent is dear,
But love is cheap for the time of year
So grab the nearest Miss
And whisper while you kiss.

In these hard times you've got to put up with anything
In these hard times you mustn't pick and choose'
And if you're nice, and squeeze her tight
She'll ask you round tomorrow night
If you don't mind sitting without a light
In these hard times.

Farmer Brown came to town
He spent the day at the cattle show
Then went to wet his whistle, inside the hotel Cecil
Lady fair, near him there
Had all her neck and shoulders bare
Said Farmer Brown 'Alack'
As he saw her dainty back.

In these hard times you've got to put up with anything
In these hard times you mustn't pick and choose
This fancy kind of o' dress ye wear
Leaves all ye neck and shoulders bare
But you're lucky to be dressed up to there.'
In these hard times.

Missis Green, rather mean
Went out last Saturday marketing
And saw out in the gutter, a codfish on a shutter
She felt its gums, poked her thumbs
All round the fish and she said 'Oh crumbs
It don't look nice at all'
Then the coster had to bawl

In these hard times you've got to put up with anything
In these hard times you mustn't pick and choose'
That codfish there's a sacrifice,
And I ask ye Ma'am would you look nice
If you'd 'ave been torpedoed twice, in these hard times?'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 16 Oct 22 - 08:49 AM

In these old Lavender Trousers
Written by R P Weston & Harry Bedford
Performed by Harry Bedford, 1910s, 20s

I know what you're looking at, people. What you've got your eyes on I can tell.
It's these dear old lavender trousers, wishing you'd a pair like them as well.
My granddad left them to me so I could look a toff,
And I said till I was dead, I would never take them off.

In these old lavender trousers I've skipped and jumped and skated,
Laughed and wept, worked and slept, and twice been vaccinated.
I've drunk four ale, I've drunk champagne, been up the pole and down a drain.
I won the heart of Mary Jane in these old lavender trousers!

Late last night I toddled in Lipton's. Everybody yelled, "Here's someone big!
Who's that in those lavender trousers? Henery the eighth or Lipton's pig?"
I ran round the counter quick, and when I wasn't seen,
Down my legs I stowed some eggs, and a roll of margarine,

In these old lavender trousers. But soon I did feel shocking!
I turned green. The margarine was running down my stocking.
Lipton called a man in blue, then all the eggs were hatching too.
All the little chicks went, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" in these old lavender trousers.

Once when I was staying in Brighton, mashing all the girls on the prom, what-what!
Dazzling them with my lavender trousers, suddenly the girls yelled out, "Great Scott!"
Some old chap was running round wrapped up in wet seaweed,
Shouting, "Dogs, they've pinched my togs!" so like a friend in need,

In these old lavender trousers, said I, "There's room for two, sir!
Though you're fat, and I'm like that, I'm sure there's room for you, sir!"
And all the girls began to screech, for he and I had one leg each,
And arm in arm we toddled up the beach in these old lavender trousers.

Last year we had a week in Blackpool, hadn't got a trunk or a bag, and so
Packed the things in the back of my trousers. I was a walking portmanteau.
When we reached the station, Oh! My missus, what a brain!
Said, "don't pay for the kid, you jay! Smuggle him into the train."

In these old lavender trousers, I pushed our little Sammy,
Walked right thro', and paid for two: me and his dear mammy.
But that kid, when the guard came round, got me pinched and fined a pound,
'Cos he poked his head thro' a hole that he had found in these old lavender trousers.

Once I was a tragedy actor—thirty bob a week, and a real big star!
When the limelight shone on these trousers, ladies in the stalls would faint—ah, ah!
In the drama "Dirty Dick" I fairly froze their blood,
Till the lords up in the "gawds" started throwing lumps of mud.

In these old lavender trousers, to act I wasn't willin'.
They kicked me on and the limelight shone, and the heroine said, "Vill'in!
Have you no heart for a woman's woe? No tender feeling at all? No, no!"
Then I rubbed my patch and I said, "What oh!" in these old lavender trousers.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 16 Oct 22 - 11:40 AM

Little Willie’s Woodbines
Or Little Billy’s Woodbines
Or Willie’s Wild Woodbines
Written by Fred Barnes and RP Weston


Little Billy Williams found a penny in a garden
One fine summer's day,
And as little Billy never had more than a 'farden',
He said, 'Hip-hoo-ray!'
Then passing a tobacconist's where cigarettes were sold,
There he beheld some little packets, coloured green and gold.
Then Billy said, 'Although I'm only six, I'll be a sport.'
He toddled in that bacca shop and this is what he bought:

Five little fags in a dainty little packet,
Five cigarettes that cost one D.
Five little pains underneath his jacket,
Five wobbles in his little Mary,
Five little whiffs and in five little jiffs
He was rolling in the tramway lines,
Wishing he could touch the cable,
Looking greener than the label
Of little Billy's wild Woodbines.

When he puffed the first one he said, 'This don't seem a good'un!
The next might be all right.'
When he lit the second he said, 'Wish I'd bought plum-pudden,
Else a paper kite.'
I never thought the world went round,' he murmered at the third,
'But now I've seen it dancing I can take my teacher's word.'
Then at the fourth he felt so bad, he hic-cup'd with a frown,
'Grub ain't so nice a-coming up as when it's going down.'

Five little fags in a dainty little packet,
Five cigarettes that cost one D.
Five little pains underneath his jacket,
Five wobbles in his little Mary,
Five little whiffs and in five little jiffs
He was rolling in the tramway lines,
Sadly saying, 'Close the shutter,
Billy's dead but do not utter
A word of Billy's wild Woodbines.

Little Billy Williams he lay flatter than a flounder,
Full of miseree.
Suddenly along the road came P.C. Binns, the bounder,
'What's up here?' said he.
Then lighting up his bulls-eye, it disclosed the shocking fact,
That Billy had been smoking right against the latest act.
He picked up all the evidence, those half-smoked woodbines four,
And scowled as little Billy said, 'Please sir, I've got one more.'

One little fag in a dainty little packet,
One cigarette that cost one D.
One little pain underneath his jacket,
One wobble in his little Mary,
One little whiff and in one little jiff
While he lay upon the tramway line,
Poor little Billy felt like dying,
And that policeman, he was crying,
But that copper pinched his last Woodbine.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 16 Oct 22 - 02:36 PM

Scented Soap or I like scented soap
Written by Weston and Lee 1929

Having presents given is the greatest joy in life
Some folks choose a crate of scotch and others choose a wife.
Married folks get cruets and teetotallers get tea,
But if you want to know the present you can send to me—

I like scented soap! I like scented soap!
Since scented soap was sent to me,
I've been as clean as clean can be.
I like scented soap as in my bath I frolic,
So if you send me scented soap, don't send carbolic!

A tramp went to a workhouse, having trod a dusty path
They offered him all sorts of soap, but he refused to bath.
They offered him sweet lavender, and then they said he might
Have his bath with violet, so he yelled with delight

I like scented soap! I like scented soap!
Since scented soap was sent to me,
I've been as clean as clean can be.
I like scented soap as in my bath I frolic,
So if you send me scented soap, don't send carbolic!

[spoken] The other day my young man said to me "Olive", he always calls me olive, "May I kiss your palm, olive". I said "Not on your life, boy!". I'm not letting him kiss me in the moonlight any more, I'm so fond of soap I'm making him kiss me in the sun light ...


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 17 Oct 22 - 06:45 AM

Tickle me Timothy, Do or Tickle me Timothy or Tickle me Timothy, Quick 1908
Written by RP Weston / FJ Barnes
Performed by Billy Williams

My old girl's hysterical, and when the fits begin
I have to make her grin - by tickling her under the chin
Shan't forget when courting her, I didn't know the wheeze
And coming home from Brighton once, she shouted 'If you please.'

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
My last train is here' said Lou
I feel like losing it straight I do
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
If you don't make me laugh, I shall swallow the ticket
So tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

On the day I married her, she felt bad all the while
I had to make her smile; I tickled her all up the aisle
But as soon as we were one, she trembled like a leaf
And shouted as she jumped about, just like a Zulu chief

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
The Parson here, he makes me cough,
I feel like pulling his nightshirt off
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
As he mightn't have anything under it, Timothy
Tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

Friday, when I laid in bed, a man came round our way
With paper flags so gay, shouting, 'Rags or old bottles today'
My old girl rushed in the room, and grabbed my pantaloons
A-shouting 'If you don't want paper flags or air-balloons.'

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
I feel I want to swap your bags
For some air-balloons or some paper flags
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
And you'll have with 'me a waggin' in front of you
Tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

On an Easter Monday once I took her to the Zoo
She'd nothing much to do, so started a hul-la-ba-loo
Got inside the monkey's cage, the hairy lah-di-dahs
All rubbed their chins against her face, shouted through the bars.

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
I feel so gay this afternoon, I feel like kissing the big baboon
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
And he isn't like you; he wants shaving all over,
So tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

Martha's rich old uncle Bill, last night in company
He told a tale you see, we all had to giggle with glee
Martha couldn't see the joke; her tears began to flow,
So she flopped down upon my knee, and softly murmured 'Oh

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
I'll have to laugh at uncle Bill, or else get nothing out of his Will
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
If you're after his money, oh, tickle my funny bone,
Tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

Now she's bought some powder and a box of safety pins
And when the fit begins, she's bound to have somebodies twins
Today she saw a bassinette, just outside our abode
She pounced on it and shouted, as the kids fell in the road

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
The babies are a lovely pair, I feel like grabbing 'em I declare
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
If I'm not to have Mister McGillighan's babies,
Oh tickle me, Timothy, quick!'


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Subject: ADD: We're Living at the Cloisters (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Oct 22 - 11:30 AM

WE'RE LIVING AT THE CLOISTERS C1930
Weston and Lee / R Harris Weston
Performed by Gracie Fields

We've moved into a 'ouse, such a dinky little 'ouse!
Ma said it would be a crying shame
If we called it Number Two down the Swagger Avenue.
Our mansion ought to have a classy name.
The next-door folks are calling theirs "The Oaks."
It's "The Maples" over the way.
So down upon the gate we've got "The Cloisters" on the plate,
An' we look at it an' proudly say:

We're all livin' at The Cloisters. That's what we call out home.
It's clois ter The Crown. It's clois ter The Plough.
It's clois ter The Anchor an' The Old Dun Cow.
The Cloister's clois ter the brewery. We can all smell what they brew.
And we shan't care tuppence when the rent day comes,
'Cause we're clois ter the workhouse, too.

Our villa might 'ave been "Hollywood" or "Ivy League,"
"The Moated Grange," or something quite as grand,
But I thought "The Cloisters" great when I saw it on the plate,
So I bought it quick for fourpence second-hand.
I screwed it on, and rubbed it till it shone,
Whilst the neighbours call it "Good Lor!
It looks all right, old bean, but what the dickens does it mean?"
So I jobbed(?) it on the front street door.

We're all livin' at The Cloisters. That's what we call out home.
It's clois ter The Crown. It's clois ter The Plough.
It's clois ter The Anchor an' The Old Dun Cow.
The Cloister's clois ter the brewery. We can all smell what they brew.
And we shan't care tuppence when the rent day comes,
'Cause we're clois ter the workhouse, too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9nPps6dicE


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Oct 22 - 02:31 PM

What a Mouth written by R P Weston
Performed by Harry Champion

Jimmy Banks would be a handsome feller
If he had another face and a different smeller
But his mouth queers him from winning in a beauty show
For it looks just like a steam-boat funnel
Or a railway arch, or the Blackwall Tunnel
And you can't see Jim when he opens it wide, you know
And when poor Jim goes walking about
You can hear kids all hollering out

What a mouth! What a mouth! What a North and South
Ker-i-key! What a mouth he's got
When he was a youngster, Oh Lord Lovell
Why, his poor old Mother used to feed him with a shovel
What a gap! Poor chap! He's never been known to laugh
For if he did, it's a penny to a quid
That his face'd fall in half.

Though his great big mouth it ain't all honey
He can whisper in his own ear, ain't it funny?
But to lay the dust he has to drink a lot, oh my
And he got so tight one foggy morning
That he laid down flat in the roadway yawning
As a poor old man was delivering coals near by
And as he went to shift the load
He saw Jim's mouth out in the road.

What a mouth! What a mouth! What a North and South
Ker-i-key! What a mouth he's got
The coalman, an old short-sighted feller
Saw his mouth wide open, and took it for the cellar
And he shot the lot right into his mouth, no joke
For Jim, poor soul, ‘s got a tummy full of coal
And he coughs up lumps of coke!

In the tap room of the Rose and Thistle
Jimmy often has a try to wet his whistle
But he can't succeed until he's had a hundred ‘pots'
First a hundred pots of beer he'll swallow
Then as all his teeth at the back are hollow
He can still find room for a dozen or so ‘rum hots'
A new barmaid came there one night
She saw Jim's face and yelled with fright.

What a mouth! What a mouth! What a North and South
Ker-i-key! What a mouth he's got
He opened it wide and the barmaid hollered
For a pewter pot he had accidentally swallowed
It was hot, that pot, soon melted and now he sits
Down by the fire with a little bit of wire
And he hooks up two bob bits.

Jimmy's wife had such a lovely baby
With a mouth as big as Jim's, or larger, may be
And I shan't forget the morning that he cut one tooth
When the poor young ma heard the baby blubber
For a nice hard teat that was made of rubber
She at once took him to the chemist, and, it's the truth
They could not get inside the door
Till they shut the baby's mouth, oh lor.

What a mouth! What a mouth! What a North and South
Ker-i-key! What a mouth he's got
'As baby's ateething' said his mummy
'Will you please, sir, let me have a penny rubber dummy?'
Said the cove 'Bai Jove' as he sucked a big jujube
'There's no rubber teat for a penny that'll fit
He wants a twopenny tube.'

Jimmy Banks in bed one night was snoring
And the neighbours round about thought a lion was roaring
Then the old Dutch clock, that was hanging on the bedroom wall
From the nail fell into his big mouth wallop
Jim woke, and yelled, 'Go for Doctor Jalap.'
Said his wife, 'No fear! You have swallowed the clock, that's all'
And now the people, isn't it fine
Look down his throat to see the time.

What a mouth! What a mouth! What a North and South
Ker-i-key! What a mouth he's got
The works of the old Dutch clock keep whizzing
In his rum-tum-tummy like a lot of sherbet fizzing
And his wife, what strife, can't sleep of a night, that's right
Cause against his tum she can hear the pendulum
Going tock-tock-tick all night.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Oct 22 - 04:06 PM

When father papered the parlour
Written by Robert Weston & Fred Barnes
Performed by Billy Williams 1910's

Our   parlour wanted papering Pa said it was waste
   To call a paperhanger in and so we made some paste
   He bought some rolls of paper a ladder and a brush
   And with my Mummy's nightgown on at it he made a rush.
   
   When Father papered the parlour, you couldn't see pa for paste
   Dabbing it here, dabbing it there, paste and paper everywhere
   Mother was stuck to the ceiling; the kids were stuck to the floor
   I never knew a blooming family so stuck up before.
   
   The pattern was ‘blue roses' its leaves red white and brown
   He'd stuck it wrong way up and now we all walk upside down
   And when he trimmed the edging off the paper with the shears
   The cat got underneath it and Dad cut off both its ears.
   
   Soon Dad fell down the stairs and dropped his paperhanger's can
   On little Henrietta sitting there with her young man
   The paste stuck them together as we'd thought 'twould be for life
   We had to fetch the parson in to make them man and wife.
   
   We're never going to move away from that house any more
   For Father's gone and stuck the chairs table to the floor
   We can't find our piano though it's broad and rather tall
   We think that its behind the paper Pa stuck on the wall.
   
   Now, Father's sticking in the pub through treading in the paste
   And all the family's so upset they've all gone pasty faced
   While Pa says, now that Ma has spread the news from North to South
   He wishes he had dropped a blob of paste in Mother's mouth.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Oct 22 - 05:25 AM

When father papered the parlour
Written by Robert Weston & Fred Barnes
Performed by Billy Williams 1910's

Our   parlour wanted papering Pa said it was waste
   To call a paperhanger in and so we made some paste
   He bought some rolls of paper a ladder and a brush
   And with my Mummy's nightgown on at it he made a rush.
   
   When Father papered the parlour, you couldn't see pa for paste
   Dabbing it here, dabbing it there, paste and paper everywhere
   Mother was stuck to the ceiling; the kids were stuck to the floor
   I never knew a blooming family so stuck up before.
   
   The pattern was ‘blue roses' its leaves red white and brown
   He'd stuck it wrong way up and now we all walk upside down
   And when he trimmed the edging off the paper with the shears
   The cat got underneath it and Dad cut off both its ears.
   
   Soon Dad fell down the stairs and dropped his paperhanger's can
   On little Henrietta sitting there with her young man
   The paste stuck them together as we'd thought 'twould be for life
   We had to fetch the parson in to make them man and wife.
   
   We're never going to move away from that house any more
   For Father's gone and stuck the chairs table to the floor
   We can't find our piano though it's broad and rather tall
   We think that its behind the paper Pa stuck on the wall.
   
   Now, Father's sticking in the pub through treading in the paste
   And all the family's so upset they've all gone pasty faced
   While Pa says, now that Ma has spread the news from North to South
   He wishes he had dropped a blob of paste in Mother's mouth.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Oct 22 - 05:58 AM

Where are the lads of the village tonight? 1914
Written by Weston/Datewski
Performed by George Lashwood


The West End's not the same tonight
The West End's not the same tonight
The lights aren't shining quite so bright
That's what I hear the little ladies say
To gave a glad eye is a crime, for it's a sad eye all the time
The dear lads of the village are away
The barmaid at you tries to wink
But with a tear-drop has to blink
And won't be ashamed to tell you why
Tho' the mob their flags are waving
Singing jingo songs and bragging
All the girls will ask each other with a sigh.

Where are the lads of the village tonight?
Where are the nuts we knew?
In Piccadilly? In Leicester square? No, not there
No, not there. They're taking a trip on the Continong
With their rifles and their bayonettes bright
Facing danger gladly where they're needed badly
That's where they are tonight.

No, Algie isn't on the moors
And bringing pheasants down by scores
He's shooting quite a different kind of bird
And Gussie isn't with the hounds
He's now on foreign hunting grounds
He's hunting German foxes so I've heard
And Percy tho' at sea a lot
Is not at Cowes upon his yacht
When last our Percy boy was seen
He was back as master gunner on a twenty thousand tonner
Dropping shells upon a German submarine

Where are the lads of the village tonight?
Where are the nuts we knew?
In Piccadilly? In Leicester square? No, not there
No, not there. They're taking a trip on the Continong
With their rifles and their bayonettes bright
Gone to teach the vulture murder is not a culture
That's where they are tonight.'

We miss those gay dare-devil boys
The student lads, all fun and noise
But Guys and St Bathelomew's know well
That in the trenches kneeling low
They tend the wounded though they know
The Red Croos Flag's a mark for German shell
But all the boys are doing grand
For King and Home and Motherland
And when at last they've turned the tide
Tho' Berlin's the place they'll rush for
They'll do nothing we need blush for
No, they'll play the game, and we shall say with pride.

Where are the lads of the village tonight?
Where are the nuts we knew
In Piccadilly? In Leicester square? No, not there
No, not there. They're taking a trip on the Continong
With their rifles and their bayonettes bright
Where the Kaiser humbled, knows his power has crumbled
That's where they are tonight.'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Oct 22 - 11:44 AM

Four-and-Nine
Written by Bert Lee/ Two Bobs
Performed by The Two Bobs

I met a girl up West one night.
She had wonderful appetite.
She said "Take me out to dine".
I counted my money, I had four and nine.
I looked at her and she looked at me
"Where shall we go dear" murmured she
I felt a shiver go down my spine,
And I said good evening to my four and nine.

Four and nine! I took her to the Cecil
Four and nine! Didn't go inside
Took her to Lockharts, then ordered some wine
Bang went thruppence of my four and nine.

She started off with oxtail soup,
Then stewed eels that looped the loop.
She said "Oysters, here are fine",
But I ordered mussels with my four and nine.
She'd mayonnaise and haricots stewed
Don't know what it was, but it sounded rude
She started rattling for some more wine
And I started wrestling my 4 and 9

Four and Nine! Still she kept on eating
Four and Nine! I thought she'd never stop
I said "Gee this dinner's fine,
But it's raising the devil with my four and nine!"

She ordered steak and a fillet of plaice,
Then she put a chicken inside her face.
And as that chicken went down the mine,
I said, "Lord help me and my four and nine."
A large entrée she put away
Well she looked at me and her face turned grey
She got a pain from the food and wine
And I got a pain in my four and nine!

Four and Nine! The waiter brought bill in
Four and Nine! Twenty seven Bob!
I got a shock and dropped my wine
She dropped the custard on my four and nine!

The waiter stood and he looked at me.
"What about paying this bill," said he.
He kept his right eye fixed on mine.
And I kept my hand on my four and nine.
In came the boss and he gave a glare.
And he placed his foot, well I won't say where.
Right through the window I went flying,
And I lit on the pavement on me four and nine.

Four and Nine! Listen to my moral
Four and Nine! Take a tip from me
Never take a lady out to dine
When all you've got is four and nine.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Oct 22 - 12:52 PM

Nobody noticed me
Written by Nat D. Ayer and Bert Lee 1918
Performed by Jack Pleasants

Although I've a striking appearance no doubt
Nobody notices me when I'm out
I can't understand it, it doesn't seem right
In fact as I walked on the stage here tonight.

Nobody noticed me, nobody noticed me
It's always been so since that wonderful morn
That wonderful morn on the day I was born
The room I was born in was large
And I was so tiny you see
That I never got fed for the first seven weeks
'Cos nobody noticed me.

One day for excitement I rode in a train
I sat with my nose glued right up to the pane
A bridegroom got in with his blushing young bride
I sat very still with my head on one side.

Nobody noticed me, nobody noticed me
We entered a tunnel without any light
I heard the bride giggle and whisper in fright
'Oh do give up kissing me, George.'
'I haven't kissed you.' answered he
She said, 'Well if you haven't, somebody has.'
But nobody noticed me.

Once with some pals at the sea-side I saw
A young ladies school bathing down on the shore
They bobbed up and down in the water so clear
A board on the beach said 'No mixed bathing here.'

Nobody noticed me, nobody noticed me
So I got my new little bathing suit out
And went in the sea and floated about
They never suspected at all
Except one young lady, and she
Said, 'It's queer, but a crab keeps on nipping my leg
But nobody noticed me.

Last leap year I met a young lady named Flo
She quickly proposed and I daren't say no
The day we were married I stood by her side
The parson shook hands with the best man and bride.

Nobody noticed me, nobody noticed me
Behind her bouquet I stood quiet and still
And just popped my head round and answered 'I will'
And when we got home later on, I felt so dead tired don't you see
I crawled under the bed and I laid there all night
And nobody noticed me.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Oct 22 - 02:30 PM

We really had a most delightful evening
Written by Worton David and Bert Lee 1910
Performed Ernest Shand

I'm an inoffensive curate, I'm the meekest of the meek,
You'll all be pleased to hear that I was 21 last week.
We gave a little party just in honour of the day,
We had milk and we had bath buns and I'm very pleased to say:

We really had a most delightful evening,
A lovely evening, a beautiful evening.
We really had a most delightful evening,
And the vicar called and brought his tiddlywinks!

[Spoken: What a night!]

Our ladies have a sewing meeting, they meet every week or so
I popped in last Thursday just to see them all you know
I found them very busy just as busy as bee
They were making er … garments which they kindly showed to me

We really had a most delightful evening,
A sewing evening, a garmentry evening.
We really had a most delightful evening,
And some were trimmed with lace and some were not!

Our spinsters are a charming lot of that I am convinced,
I went out with our spinsters, for I love to see them "spinst".
We sat down in a hayfield to enjoy the evening breeze,
But woe is me I sat upon a hive of busy bees

We really had a most delightful evening,
A buzzing evening, a busy evening.
We really had a most delightful evening,
I was stung upon the ... twenty fourth of June


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 20 Oct 22 - 12:56 PM

Blighty The Soldiers Home Sweet Home
Written R P Weston & Bert Lee 1916
Performed by Miss Maie Ash

What's the song the boys are singing out in France ?
It isn't Tennesee that's not the melody
You don't hear them sighing now for Dixieland
There's a different tune upon the Army band
Listen and you'll hear each gallant khaki boy
Singing this song of joy

Chorus
Blighty Blighty That is were going back to Blighty
Blighty mother put my nightie
By the fire to air I'll soon be there
When the job is over All aboard for Dover
And for Blighty Blighty
Hear those big propellers making music in the foam
Bound for Blighty glad to depart
Don't you know where Blighty is ?
Why Bless your heart
It's the soldiers Home Sweet Home Home

When we get the happy news there homeward bound
There'll be some more joy upon the Blighty shore
Here the people on the quay all shout hooray
When they see the steamer coming down the bay
Listen and you'll hear the merry khaki throng
Singing their homeland song

Chorus
Blighty Blighty That is were going back to Blighty
Blighty mother put my nightie
By the fire to air I'll soon be there
When the job is over All aboard for Dover
And for Blighty Blighty
Hear those big propellers making music in the foam
Bound for Blighty glad to depart
Don't you know where Blighty is ?
Why Bless your heart
It's the soldiers Home Sweet Home Home


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 21 Oct 22 - 05:06 PM

Fancy You Fancying Me!
Written by R P Weston & Bert Lee 1916

When I sit and look at you
I just can't believe it's true
Can't believe you love though you have often told me so
Seems just like a dream of bliss
Never hoped for things like this
Now I'm wondering all the day
Why such luck should come my way

Chorus
Fancy you fancying me
I can't tell what you see
For it seems like dreams not reality
, That you should like my personality.
I can't quite figure it out,
I can't tell why it should be.
I can fancy anybody fancying you, But fancy you fancying me!

Don't know anybody who,
Ever could help liking you. you're so diff'rent from the rest;
S'pose that's why I love you best.
Guess the first day that we met,
I knew I'd a heart to let.
Now I know your love is true
Can't help saying, same as you,

Chorus
Fancy you fancying me
I can't tell what you see
For it seems like dreams not reality
, That you should like my personality.
I can't quite figure it out,
I can't tell why it should be.
I can fancy anybody fancying you,
But fancy you fancying me!


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 22 Oct 22 - 01:17 PM

Forty-Nine and in the Army
written by R P Weston & Bert Lee 1918
Performed by Miss Ella Sheilds

Now Mr Samuel Green was on the Stock Exchange
His mind was rather stodgy
His form was rather podgy
One day he had his call to go and do his bit
And after he had recovered from an apoplectic fit
He went to the Medical Board they passed him right away
As fit for general service and today you'll hear him say

Chorus
I'm Forty-Nine and in the Army
I'm Forty-Nine and fit and fine
Though I'm wheezy about the chest
And gouty about the knees
Forty-Nine and in the Army
I'm longing to be in the fighting line
And if somebody holds my rifle while I borrow a pair of steps
I'll be over the top at forty-Nine I'm Forty-Nine

Said Sam when I was in – the sergeant shouted shun
You squint-eyed lot of blighters
I'll train you into fighters
The sergeant was my son
I said George how do you do
He yelled no talking in the ranks and hold your back up you
Said I who you're hollering at ?
You're talking to your dad
He said I'm not I am the segeant you are Private Green my lad

Chorus
I'm Forty-Nine and in the Army
I'm Forty-Nine and fit and fine
Though I'm wheezy about the chest
And gouty about the knees
Forty-Nine and in the Army
I'm longing to be in the fighting line
And if somebody holds my rifle while I borrow a pair of steps
I'll be over the top at forty-Nine I'm Forty-Nine


Said poor old Private Green
That sergeant son of mine
Said Father when I drill yer
Don't be so familiar
And like a blinking worm
I say I'm sorry Jim
I mean I'm sorry sergeant yet I'm proud of him
But after the victory's won as sure as I?'m a dunce
You bet I'll wallop that sergeant till he wont sit down for months

Chorus
I'm Forty-Nine and in the Army
I'm Forty-Nine and fit and fine
Though I'm wheezy about the chest
And gouty about the knees
Forty-Nine and in the Army
I'm longing to be in the fighting line
And if somebody holds my rifle while I borrow a pair of steps
I'll be over the top at forty-Nine I'm Forty-Nine


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 26 Oct 22 - 06:27 AM

I Might Learn to Love Him Later On (Tra-La-La-La)
Written by R P Weston & Bert Lee 1921

I'm housemaid to a titled gent a widower is he
And on the strict qc I think he's gone on me
He swore at me the other day he did upon my life
Called me a silly something as though I was his wife

Tra la la that shows he loves me
And though he's eighty-five and goggle-eyed
Tr la la la and if he should ask me
And I consent to be his blushing bride
I might learn to love him later on Tra la la la
I might learn to love him later on

Old men are scared and there hard to please
And I'm getting tired of getting house maid's knees
Tra La La La so if he asks me I'll not refuse Sir John
Though he's got me by the tonsils
He has millions in consoles
So I might learn to love him later on
tra la la la

Now when his nurse is not about
We have a quiet spoon
Yes every afternoon I feed him with a spoon
And when I help him up because his knees have given way
The gay old blighter put his arm around me today
Tra la la la and when were married
I'll make him take a dose of monkey gland
Ooh la la la and if the thyroid
Is half as good as what I understand
I might learn to love him later on Tra la la la
I might learn to love him later on

Old men are scared and there hard to please
And I'm getting tired of getting house maid's knees
Tra La La La so if he asks me I'll not refuse Sir John
He's gouty and cantankerous
But he's bought up half Saint Pancaras
He stutters and he dribbles
They accept the cheques he scribbles
So I might learn to love him later on
Tra la la la

I'm known to him I'm going to put the banns up in Mayfair
And in his old bar there I'll take him in his chair
And when the parson say's either james or john
He can't say no cause he's go his respirator on
Tra la la la how romantic
He won't know he's married I declare
Tra la la la until the morning
When he wakes up and discovers I am there
I might learn to love him later on Tra la la la
I might learn to love him later on


Old men are scared and there bleeding hard to please
And I'm getting tired of getting house maid's knees
Tra La La La so if he asks me I'll not refuse Sir John
He's not what I'd ever sighed for
But his bank accounts to die for
His language will be shocking
I'll just gag in with his stocking
I know he's clean and tidy
I wash him every Friday
I might learn to love him later on Tra la la la


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 27 Oct 22 - 02:34 PM

WHO'S THE GIRL YOU'RE GOING TO MEET TONIGHT?
 Written and composed by W. David & B. Lee
Performed by Florrie Forde (1876-1940)


Georgie was a simple kind of chap
Georgie always went out with mamma
Till one evening up the West
He started off to do the la-di-da
Everybody wondered what his game was
When of him alone they caught a view
Till someone chanced to spy a twinkle in his eye
And cried, 'Oh tell me Georgie do

Chorus: Who's the girl you're going to meet tonight?
You're going to meet tonight
Is it Jane or Flo, Maud or Mary Ann?
Oh, Georgie, tell me like a man
What's the tale you're going to tell her
Out in the pale moonlight
There's something in your eye that seems to say 'Goo-goo'
Who's the girl you're going to meet tonight?'

Georgie soon became a married man
Said one morning to his wifie, May
'I've got pressing work tonight
So at the office late I'll have to stay.'
Wifie murmured, 'Darling I believe you
Wouldn't think, of course, of doubtinhg you
But just before you go, I'd really like to know
As you've got pressing work to do,

Chorus: Who's the girl you're going to meet tonight?
You're going to meet tonight
Is it Jane or Flo, Maud or Mary Ann?
Oh, Georgie, tell me like a man
What's the tale you're going to tell her
Out in the pale moonlight
There's something in your eye that seems to say 'Yum-yum'
Who's the girl you're going to meet tonight?'

Georgie on a charge of bigamy
Later on was dragged into the court
Three wives he had married, so
Before the judge and jury he was brought
Eighteen months imprisonment they gave him
Georgie's handsome face looked rather queer
Then as he turned to go, towards the cells below
His three wives shouted, 'Georgie dear,

Chorus: Who's the girl you're going to meet tonight?
You're going to meet tonight
Is it Jane or Flo, Maud or Mary Ann?
Oh, Georgie, tell me like a man
What's the tale you're going to tell her
Out in the pale moonlight
There's something in your eye that seems to say 'Bow-wow'
Who's the girl you're going to meet tonight?'

One word to the girls before I go
Look round at the fellows sitting there
They're all single, you can tell
They've money in the bank, and curly hair
There's a beauty, isn't he a darling?
You're a single man, now, aren't you dear
You come here on your own, and sit there all alone
But tell me when you go from here,

Chorus: Who's the girl you're going to meet tonight?
You're going to meet tonight
Is it Jane or Flo, Maud or Mary Ann?
Oh, Georgie, tell me like a man
What's the tale you're going to tell her
Out in the pale moonlight
There's something in your eye that seems to say 'Thumbs up'
Who's the girl you're going to meet tonight?'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Oct 22 - 07:27 AM

I would have some reservations performing this one but as a historical document it is important please note the comment 5 shillings in the pound that the rich man pays that level of taxation is the same as today

The Rich Man and the Poor Man
by R P Weston & Bert Lee

The poor are always with us so the prophet used to say
The rich are also with us too , expect when they're away
But money isn't ev'rything and life's a funny game
So if you're rich or if you're poor you've troubles
just the same

Chant
The rich man eats at the Ritz or Savoy
Drinks wine it may be sinful
The poor man dines on a penny saveloy
So he always gets his skinfull
The rich man has five courses at lunch
No wonder he gets fat quick
The poor man knows only three courses
Kempton Epsom and Gatwick

The rich man sleeps in a mansion grand
Built by the poor man's labours
The poor man sleeps in a council house
With his feet in the nextdoor neighbours
The rich man sleeps in his bed alone
They have twin beds cause I've seem em
The poor man sleeps in bed with his wife
And the four twins sleep between them

The rich man smokes Flor Finas grand
And he looks trey bong behind them
The poor man smokes Flor Finas to
And on the floor he finds them
The rich man pays five bob in the pound
And thinks that it's a caution

The poor man pays four pence in the pint
In the year he pays a fortune

When he rich man's Rolls Royce breaks down
All night long he has to mind it
If the poor man's car breaks down – who cares
There's another one behind it
When the rich man's queer he operates
At these Nursing Institutions
When the poor man's queer he goes to work
And says thank heavens for kruschens's

If the rich man's wife should prove untrue
He applys for Decree Nisi's
If the poor man's wife begins to flirt
He gives her a couple of nice eyes
The rich man boasts of his ancestors
They were great men who could doubt it
The poor men's people were thieves as well
But he doesn't swank about it

When the rich mans buried upon his chest
There's a tombstone large and classy
The poor man's happy with a dandelion
In a jam jar on his chassy
The rich man's wife has diamonds bright
That Her loving husband sends her
When the poor man's wife has diamonds bright
He knows she's got influenza

The rich man's wife has kolinsky furs
And ev'ry kind of rare skin
The poor man's wife on friday night
Has a bath and shows her bare skin
The rich man has a bath each day
Though it may sound impossible
The poor man has to stand in the sink
And washes as far as possible

Finale
It's all a matter of what you think
You'll find the whole world o'er
If you think you're rich you are rich
If you think you're poor you're poor


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Oct 22 - 12:19 PM

WILL YOU LOVE ME WHEN I'M MUTTON
From the film "We're Going To Be Rich" (1938) (R.P. Weston / Bert Lee)
Gracie Fields (with Ray Noble & His Orch.) - 1938

SPOKEN INTRO: (BUTCHER: Here 'are. What about a nice drop o' lamb, dear.
One and four the pound)

(GRACIE: Don't talk t'me about lamb.
I'm proper upset, you should 'ear what I've heard this mornin'......

Two little lambs were in a field of clover.
A He lamb and a She lamb. I'll explain.
The She lamb gave the He lamb the once over.
Then tenderly she bleated this refrain......)

Will you love me when I'm mutton
As you do now I am lamb
Baa baa black sheep tell me do, tell me do

Will you love me when I'm mutton
Like a true and faithful ram
Or will you tell me I'm too tough to chew
When my one and four a pound is not so tender
And there's no wool left upon my woollen fleece
When you're sitting in the ice chest with me,

Darling Oh, promise that you won't be cold to me
Will you love me when I'm mutton
As you do now I am lamb
Baa baa black sheep tell me do, tell me do
Will you love me when I'm mutton
Like a true and faithful ram

Though I'm cut up and you'll feel cut up, too
Though my cupid darts are skewered, stuck in my shoulder
And they've stuck a ticket where your tail should be
When the butcher sells your kidneys, look for ????? ?????
Oh, tell him that your heart is still for me

Will you love me when I'm mutton
As you do now I am lamb
Baa baa black sheep tell me do, tell me do

Will you love me on the Sunday
When you're roasted like I am
And when you're served up cold on Monday, too
If you meet me in the soup upon the Tuesday
Oh. promise you won't hide behind a pea
And on Wednesday when they call us rissoles,
Darling Oh, tell me that you'll be twin souls with me

SPOKEN: (GRACIE: Well, I'm sure you'll admit it's a very, very sad story.
Don't ya think so? (Baaa-baaa) Hey, hey, go on home before butcher sees ya! (Baaa-baaa)


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Oct 22 - 05:46 PM

Sing! sing! why shouldn’t we sing? R P Weston Bert Lee 1916
Performed by Florrie Forde

Down in Aberyswtith, midst the hills and dales,
Many Welshmen gathered there to sing the praise of Wales.
Hearts and voices blending in a feast of song;
Though some declared, in wartime it was wrong.
There amongst the songsters on the mountain side,
The greatest Welshman in the land stood up and said with pride;

"Sing, sing, why shouldn't we sing?
Though days are dreary, let us be cheery.
Sing, sing, let melody flow;
Are the home fires out yet?  No, no, no!
Sing, sing, why shouldn't we sing?
For there's one thing we never should forget;
Old John Bull is still alive and kicking,
And we haven't pulled the blinds down yet!

Sing a little chorus, never mind your voice.
Sing; if you were dumpy it would make your heart rejoice.
Sing although your pack boys, weighs just half a ton
Sing, and half the victoy is won.
There's a little rainbow shining in the sky;
Now we know that brighter days are coming, by and by.

Sing, sing, why shouldn't we sing?
Though days are dreary, let us be cheery.
Sing, sing, let melody flow;
Are the home fires out yet?  No, no, no!
Sing, sing, why shouldn't we sing?
For there's one thing we never should forget;
Old John Bull is still alive and kicking,
And we haven't pulled the blinds down yet!"


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Oct 22 - 06:01 PM

SISTER SUSIE'S SEWING SHIRTS FOR SOLDIERS
(Herman E Darewski (m) R P Weston (l) 1914)
as recorded by Billy Murray 1914

Sister Susie's sewing in the kitchen on a Singer,
There's miles and miles of flannel on the floor and up the stairs.
And father says it's rotten
Getting mixed up with the cotton,
And sitting on the needled that she leaves upon the chairs!
And should you knock at our street door, ma whispers
"Come inside!", Then when you ask where Susie is, she says with loving pride,

"Sister Susie's sewing shirts for soldiers,
Such skill at sewing shirts our shy young sister Susie shows!
Some soldiers send epistles,
Say they'd sooner sleep in thistles
Than the saucy soft short shirts for soldiers sister Susie shows!".

I forgot to tell you that our sister Susie's married,
And when she isn't sewing shirts she's sewing other things.
Then little sister Molly Says
"Oh sister's bought a dolly, she;s making all the clothes for it with pretty bows and strings".
Says Susie, "Don't be silly!", as she blushes and she sighs,
Then mother smiles and whispers with a twinkle in her eyes,

"Sister Susie's sewing shirts for soldiers,
Such skill at sewing shirts our shy young sister Susie shows!
Some soldiers send epistles, Say they'd sooner sleep in thistles
Than the saucy soft short shirts for soldiers sister Susie shows!".

[spoken]
Ha-ha, well I'm glad that's off my chest!
Now I'd like to have everybody join in the chorus!
It isn't as hard as it sounds, not nearly as hard as
"Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers",
or "She sells sea shells by the sea shore",
but you must be sober before you try it!
Come now, all together! [sung]
Sister Susie's sewing shirts for soldiers,
Such skill at sewing shirts our shy young sister Susie shows!
Some soldiers send epistles,
Say they'd sooner sleep in thistles
Than the saucy soft short shirts for soldiers sister Susie shows!


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 31 Oct 22 - 09:02 AM

THERE ARE NICE GIRLS EVERYWHERE
Authorship often credited to R.P. Weston but according to the 'Performing Rights Society' it was actually one of Fred Godfrey's songs, published 1909 by Francis Day & Hunter.
Performed by Whit Cunliffe (1876-1966)



Travellers all complain, going back home again,
From across the main, tho' they might not obtain'.
Rubies, diamonds or pearls, they will always want the girls,
And they'll tell you how they long to gaze on sweet peroxide curls,
From their yarns about no girls, that's tommy-rot
It's the people all at home, I'll tell you what....
Chorus: There are nice girls everywhere, there are nice girls everywhere,
From Peru to Timbuktu, there's a girl for me and a girl for you.
On the mountains of Piccadilly, in the wilds of Leicester Square,
Where e'er you roam hoping you will see them home,
There are nice girls everywhere.
Next the fair gazelles on the Dardanelles
Give me lou loubelles, wearing rows of shells
Tho' their noses may be flat and their hair just like a mat,
When you've nothing else to spoon well, we'll let it go at that.
Oh, the beauty of a Zulu may be such,
Her dresses do not cost you half as much,
Chorus: There are nice girls everywhere, there are nice girls everywhere,
From Peru to Timbuktu, there's a girl for me and a girl for you.
On the mountains of Piccadilly, in the wilds of Leicester Square,
From Manchester to Dover saying, 'Archibald, give over!'
There are nice girls everywhere.
Chorus: There are nice girls everywhere, there are nice girls everywhere,
From Peru to Timbuktu, there's a girl for me and a girl for you.
On the mountains of Piccadilly, in the wilds of Leicester Square,
Down country lanes at night, if you care to strike a light,
There are nice girls everywhere.
 


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 10 Nov 22 - 10:01 AM

Tickle me Timothy, Do or Tickle me Timothy or Tickle me Timothy, Quick 1908
Written by RP Weston / FJ Barnes
Performed by Billy Williams

My old girl's hysterical, and when the fits begin
I have to make her grin - by tickling her under the chin
Shan't forget when courting her, I didn't know the wheeze
And coming home from Brighton once, she shouted 'If you please.'

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
My last train is here' said Lou
I feel like losing it straight I do
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
If you don't make me laugh, I shall swallow the ticket
So tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

On the day I married her, she felt bad all the while
I had to make her smile; I tickled her all up the aisle
But as soon as we were one, she trembled like a leaf
And shouted as she jumped about, just like a Zulu chief

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
The Parson here, he makes me cough,
I feel like pulling his nightshirt off
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
As he mightn't have anything under it, Timothy
Tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

Friday, when I laid in bed, a man came round our way
With paper flags so gay, shouting, 'Rags or old bottles today'
My old girl rushed in the room, and grabbed my pantaloons
A-shouting 'If you don't want paper flags or air-balloons.'

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
I feel I want to swap your bags
For some air-balloons or some paper flags
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
And you'll have with 'me a waggin' in front of you
Tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

On an Easter Monday once I took her to the Zoo
She'd nothing much to do, so started a hul-la-ba-loo
Got inside the monkey's cage, the hairy lah-di-dahs
All rubbed their chins against her face, shouted through the bars.

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
I feel so gay this afternoon, I feel like kissing the big baboon
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
And he isn't like you; he wants shaving all over,
So tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

Martha's rich old uncle Bill, last night in company
He told a tale you see, we all had to giggle with glee
Martha couldn't see the joke; her tears began to flow,
So she flopped down upon my knee, and softly murmured 'Oh

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
I'll have to laugh at uncle Bill, or else get nothing out of his Will
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
If you're after his money, oh, tickle my funny bone,
Tickle me, Timothy, quick!'

Now she's bought some powder and a box of safety pins
And when the fit begins, she's bound to have somebodies twins
Today she saw a bassinette, just outside our abode
She pounced on it and shouted, as the kids fell in the road

Tickle me Timothy, tickle me do, tickle me there's a dear
The babies are a lovely pair, I feel like grabbing 'em I declare
I can't help myself; I'll do it in half a tick
If I'm not to have Mister McGillighan's babies,
Oh tickle me, Timothy, quick!'


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 10 Nov 22 - 10:02 AM

We really had a most delightful evening
Written by Worton David and Bert Lee 1910
Performed Ernest Shand

I'm an inoffensive curate, I'm the meekest of the meek,
You'll all be pleased to hear that I was 21 last week.
We gave a little party just in honour of the day,
We had milk and we had bath buns and I'm very pleased to say:

We really had a most delightful evening,
A lovely evening, a beautiful evening.
We really had a most delightful evening,
And the vicar called and brought his tiddlywinks!

[Spoken: What a night!]

Our ladies have a sewing meeting, they meet every week or so
I popped in last Thursday just to see them all you know
I found them very busy just as busy as bee
They were making er … garments which they kindly showed to me

We really had a most delightful evening,
A sewing evening, a garmentry evening.
We really had a most delightful evening,
And some were trimmed with lace and some were not!

Our spinsters are a charming lot of that I am convinced,
I went out with our spinsters, for I love to see them "spinst".
We sat down in a hayfield to enjoy the evening breeze,
But woe is me I sat upon a hive of busy bees

We really had a most delightful evening,
A buzzing evening, a busy evening.
We really had a most delightful evening,
I was stung upon the ... twenty fourth of June


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 16 Nov 22 - 06:53 AM

All The Girls Are Lovely by The Seaside
Words by Worton David & Bert Lee Music by Harry Fragson

Every Girl You Must Confess
Has an attraction more or less
Tho' Beauty is often a snare
Many a girlie gains renown
For a complexion up in town
That comes of with her back hair
But if you want to find a spot
Where all the girls what what
Are seen at their best well dressed
Trotting round about
Come along where the breezes blow
Off to the briny we must go
And you'll find without a doubt
Chorus
All the Girls are lovely by the seaside
All the Girls are lovely by the sea
When they're strolling down beside the ocean
The ocean what a commotion
All the Girls are lovely by the seaside
With their curls and bits of drapery
See those darlings trip along
Every one is going strong
Watch the mixing with the throng
Some are lean and rather long
Some are fat and “Em-bong-pong”
Pick were you like you can't go wrong
There all lovely by the sea
All the sea

Giddy Gustave and Blanche Marie
Tired of life in Gay Paree
To Ostend decided to go
Meant to enjoy the nice fresh air
Also the lovely bathing there
The bathing was mixed and so
He took Marie into the sea
Among the girls he bobbed with glee
And oh what a time real Prime
Till a french man there
Suddenly cried you young pup
That's the wrong girl you're holding up
Gustave shouted I don't care


Chorus
All the Girls are lovely by the seaside
All the Girls are lovely by the sea
When they're strolling down beside the ocean
The ocean what a commotion
All the Girls are lovely by the seaside
With their curls and bits of drapery
Frenchy girls with eyes of blue
Give the”goo-goo” eyes to you
You give them the glad eye too
Then with a smile that runs clear thru
They ask you if they parle vous
Or whether you don't or whether you do
There all lovely by the sea
All the sea

Little Miss Maud from Brighton Pier
Out on a Yacht with Lord Devere
Went sailing a shilling an hour
Terrible storms began to break
Little Miss Maud began to quake
As down came an awful shower
Her hair soon lost its curly wave
Her lunch began to disbehave
As over the rail quite pale
She hung like a wreck
Then as her face turned degrees
The colour of Gorgonzola cheese
Someone shouted from the deck

Chorus
All the Girls are lovely by the seaside
All the Girls are lovely by the sea
When they're strolling down beside the ocean
The ocean what a commotion
All the Girls are lovely by the seaside
With their curls and bits of drapery
On the pier out of sight
Then you spoon some girl in white
She cries Georgie hold me tight
And though her face in broad day light
Would give a chimpanzee a fright
With a bit of luck and a foggy night
There all lovely by the sea
All the sea


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 22 Nov 22 - 01:57 PM

At the Vicar's Fancy Ball
Written and Composed by Worton David & Bert Lee

To pass our winter evenings at our parish church last year
Our vicar gave a fancy ball a very fine idea
Each member did appear in fancy dress
T'was really most enjoyable ah yes ah yes ah yes

refrain :At our vicar's fancy ball
Some happy recollections I recall
One lady came as Cupid and at me she shot her arrows
It stuck right in a girl dressed as as vegetable marrow
To represent a farm yard I espied Missis Clegg there
She did a lot of cackling but never laid an egg there
Miss Green came as a winkle and made the people giggle
She came out of her little shell and back she could not wiggle
Dear sisters I was so ashamed of Miss Selina Snicker
She came as feather and tickled our dear Vicar
Miss Brown came as the morning lark with music she was bristling
She swallowed her bird warbler and she couldn't speak for whistling
To represent Guy Fawkes day as a firework came Miss Crockett
She got too near the gas stove and went up like a rocket
At our vicar's fancy ball
Wind blew through his trumpet
At our dear dear vicar's dear dear vicar's dear vicar's fancy ball

The trades folk to our parish there a great sensation made
They each came in a dress supposed to represent their trade
As fruit and flowers and what not ah they made a lovely show
Those costumes I will ne'er forget ah no ah no ah no

refrain :At our vicar's fancy ball
Those funny costumes I can recall
The fruiterer as a lemon sent his daughter Miss Louisa
And fortunately her young man came as a lemon squeezer
Poor Missis Jones the grocer's wife came as a pound butter
She melted with the heat and down a crack began to slutter
Our butcher's wife dear Missis Green came as a joint of brisket
Mark'd going cheap at four a pound but no-one cared to risk-it
Our cheese man Mr Niffy as a cheese was very drollah
I murmured thank the Lord you didn't come as a gorgonzola
Miss Lizzie from the fish shop as a codfish was busy
And everything went smoothly until they tried to fillet Lizzie
Miss White came as a pork pie trimmed with parsley there I found her
But the vicar sent her home again to put more parsley round her
At our vicar's fancy ball
Wind blew through his trumpet
At our dear dear vicar's dear dear vicar's dear vicar's fancy ball

Our musical society turned up in splendid force
And everyone appeared as something musical of course
Their costumes were very humorous yea verily tis so
I really felt obliged to laugh hh ha hee hee ho ho

refrain :At our vicar's fancy ball
Those Characters of music I recall
To represent an organ came our organist Mister Fellows
The blower blew him up so much alas he burst his bellows
Dress'd as a note of music came Miss Angelina Gotchitt
And got most annoyed when someone tried to dot her crochet
Young Brown as a fiddle and my word he did look rummy
For someone tried to scrap a bow across his little Mary
To represent a flute Miss Brown came all the way from Bootle
She got a chocolate in her throat and then she couldn't tootle
Miss Flynn came as a jew's harp and she used a lot of blarney
Till someone stuck his teeth in her and tried to play Killarney
To represent a cornet was fat old Major Crumpet the room was very draughty and the
Wind blew through his trumpet
At our dear dear vicar's dear dear vicar's dear vicar's fancy ball


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 22 Nov 22 - 02:28 PM

FARES PLEASE


Written and composed by Bert Lee - 1917
Performed by Daisy Dormer (1883-1947)




Why this crushing, why this rushing
For the County Council tram?
What's all this noise about
And what is it brings all the fellows out?
Why this hustle, why this bustle
As upon the car they swarm?
Oh gee, don't you see
It's the girl in the uniform
The tram is full and this is why
They want to hear that pretty little tram-guard cry,

Chorus: 'Fares please! Have your money ready
Fares please! There's room for two there you there,
Move up on your right and make room for your Uncle
Fares please! Have your money ready
Fares please! I've got to punch your tickets
Now then, Molly Duck your head, you'll hit it on the trolley
Now then, Willie, Change for Leicester Square and Kick-a Billy
All aboard! I'm shouting, all aboard
I'm going to pull the cord and then we'll homeward whirl
Though the car is full tonight
Though it swerves from left to right
You'll be safe if you hold on tight
To the tram conductor-girl.'

Gus and Bertie smile at Gertie
When she asks them where they're for
They simply say 'Goo-goo
Oh, we'll travel anywhere with you'
Fat old stagers, gouty majors
Murmur to this saucy pet
'By gad, not half bad'
And there's life in the old dog yet
Old Farmer Brown from Lancasheer says
'Eh, by gum, it's extra, and the wife's not here.'

Chorus:Fares please! Have your money ready
Fares please! There's room for two there you there,
Move up on your right and make room for your Uncle
Fares please! Have your money ready
Fares please! I've got to punch your tickets
Now then, Molly Duck your head, you'll hit it on the trolley
Now then, Willie, Change for Leicester Square and Kick-a Billy
All aboard! I'm shouting, all aboard
I'm going to pull the cord and then we'll homeward whirl
Though the car is full tonight
Though it swerves from left to right
You'll be safe if you hold on tight
To the tram conductor-girl.'
 


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 23 Nov 22 - 06:14 AM

I DO LIKE A S'NICE, S'MINCE, S'PIE
Written and composed by Bert Lee & Worton David 1914

I'm so fond of what I like,
And what I like, I like it
Some like this, and some like that
Some like lean, and some like fat
Some like pudding, some like pie
With which to fill their phiz
But there's one thing I like best
I'll tell you what it is

Chorus: Oh I do like s'nice s'pince s'pie
Oh I do like s'nice s'pince s'pie
Don't like lamb, ham or jam
And I don't like roly-poly
But when I see a s'nice s'pince s'pie
Then I ask for a helping twice
For I do like a s'nice s'pince s'pie
'Cos it's s'nice, s'nice, s'nice

I've a sweetheart all my own,
There's no one else would have her
Her face I've not tasted yet
It's so slobbery and so wet
We sat in the Park, last night
She nudged my arm and sighed
'What do you like the best of all?'
I grinned, and then replied

Chorus: Oh I do like s'nice s'pince s'pie
Oh I do like s'nice s'pince s'pie
Don't like lamb, ham or jam
And I don't like roly-poly
But when I see a s'nice s'pince s'pie
Then I ask for a helping twice
For I do like a s'nice s'pince s'pie
'Cos it's s'nice, s'nice, s'nice

Once I went to Parliament
I'd been sent there to dust it
Found a meeting on inside
One young member loudly cried
'Matters we'll no longer mince
Our country must be led
We can't mince matters' I said 'No
Lets all mince pies instead'

Chorus: Oh I do like s'nice s'pince s'pie
Oh I do like s'nice s'pince s'pie
Don't like lamb, ham or jam
And I don't like roly-poly
But when I see a s'nice s'pince s'pie
Then I ask for a helping twice
For I do like a s'nice s'pince s'pie
'Cos it's s'nice, s'nice, s'nice


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GUEST,mary
Date: 27 Nov 22 - 02:07 PM

Mi esposo me dejó por falta de hijos durante 9 años. Mi corazón estaba roto porque ya no podía soportar el dolor. Empecé a buscar ayuda en Internet y encontré un artículo de (Sandar) que decía que DR Ogbo la ayudó a recuperar a su esposo después de pagar algunos (artículos espirituales) utilizados para preparar el hechizo que trajo a su esposo de regreso en 42 horas. Me apegué a su testimonio y me conecté con el Dr. Ogbo y después de verter mis dolores, el Dr. Ogbo me dio sus palabras de que quedaré embarazada dentro de un mes después del regreso de mi esposo. Le creí y seguí todas sus instrucciones que necesitaba para resolver mi caso. Me sorprendí cuando recibí una llamada de mi esposo diciendo que lo sentía y que regresaría a casa y que esto sucedió dentro de las 42 horas posteriores a que el Dr. Ogbo preparó un hechizo de amor para mí. Mi marido volvió a mí y esta vez volvimos de nuevo e irrompibles. Después de 2 semanas, estaba embarazada de mi esposo y di a luz a una hermosa hija a la que llamamos (JOY). Puede que estés pasando por un infierno ahora, pero te digo que no durará para siempre, porque el Dr. Ogbo está aquí para ayudarnos a todos. Puede chatear con él en su línea de WhatsApp al +2348057586216 o enviar un correo electrónico a: drogbohighspiritualspellcaster@gmail.com para una solución permanente.


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