Cleopatra Drain
by
Cyril Fletcher
Poor little Cleopatra Drain
Will never seem the same again. 
One night some little time ago 
Whilst Ma was at a picture show, 
Thinking she might immerse herself 
She took a tin bath from the shelf 
And then, removing her attire 
She bathed before the kitchen fire. 
Her future might have held some hope 
Had she not trodden on the soap. 
Looking like nature in the raw 
She skidded on the kitchen floor.
Then finished up this flight so strange 
By sitting on the kitchen range. 
The red hot stove, I hate to say
Was trade marked in the usual way. 
Poor Cleo gazing in the glass 
Discovered what had come to pass,
For where she sat the poor girl saw 
Burned the word EXCELSIOR.
Well, War broke out and like a shot
Her patriotism burned red hot, 
She went and joined the ATS
Who asked her would she please undress. 
The Commandant exclaimed 'Come! Come! 
What is the word you have there chum?
A code word, unless I'm a chump 
That means an ammunition dump. 
We will have to blot it out, I guess 
And find another one unless 
You want to be shot as a spy
But no-one wants to see you die!' 
So they called in a local painter chap 
Who altered Cleopatra's map 
And substituted, what a farce,
The bold words 'Please, Keep Off The Grass.'
The end