L.E. Baggaley & Edwin John (1934)

  Now 'ospitals aren't cheerful places,
Not even the best, you'll agree;
But the one that fair gives you the 'orrors,
Is the one at Saint Earaches-on-Sea.

It says over the door, "English Martyrs,"
A name that inspires a doubt.
It's appropriate, tho', because many go in,
But very few live to come out.

Now a cousin of mine, name of Arnold,
'Oo went there for treatment last year,
Said the blooming place very nigh killed 'im,
And it all come about like this 'ere:

'E lay there one day, in a dark, dreary ward,
It's name was "The Angel of Death."
They'd all got such names, nice and sociable like,
When you saw 'em, you fair caught your breath.

Now our Arnold was not feeling robust,
And 'is face was a pale shade of green,
'E'd a mouth like a dustpan, and felt a bit queer,
Around where 'is appendix 'ad been.
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