So God's in His heaven
And that is the end of the news.

We are told that it's dismal and dreary
To air our despairs,
We are told to be gallant and cheery
And banish our cares
So when fortune gives us a cup of hemlock to quaff
We just give a slight hiccup and laugh laugh laugh.
Heigho, everything's fearful,
We do wish that Vi was a little more cheerful,
The only result of her last operation
Has been gales of wind at the least provocation.

Now don't laugh, poor Mrs Mason
Was washing some smalls in the lavatory basin
When that old corroded
Gas-heater exploded
And blew her smack into the news.
We're in clover,
Uncle George is in clink
For refusing to work for the war,
Now it's over
Auntie Maud seems to think
He'll be far better placed than before.
What fun -- dear little Sidney.
Produced a spectacular stone in his kidney,
  He's had eleven
So God's in His heaven
And that is the end of the news.

Heigho, what a catastrophe,
Grandfather's brain is beginning to atrophy,
Last Sunday night after eating an apple
He made a rude noise in the Methodist chapel.
Good egg! Dear little Doris
Has just been expelled for assaulting Miss Morris.
Both of her sisters
Are covered in blisters
From standing about in the queues.
We've been done in
By that mortgage foreclosure
And Father went out on a blind,
He got run in
For indecent exposure
And ever so heavily fined.
Heigho hi-diddle-diddle,
Aunt Isabel's shingles have met in the middle,
She's buried in Devon
So God's in His heaven
And that is the end of the news.
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