Roger Brocksom
Now Isabella, t’ Queen of Spain
Lived many years ago
In palace grand, plus husband and
Just piles and piles o’ dough.

She were quite young and pretty too
And loved to dance t’ Can-Can
But t’ King of Spain were reet decrepit-like
And wore out - poor old man.

So poor young Queen just had to find
Some other man to love
And when Columbus came t’ door
She cooed like t’ turtle dove.

Columbus, ‘e were selling fish
‘E’d caught off Timbuctoo
So when ‘t Queen said, “Come in,” ‘e said
“I don’t mind if I do.”

She gave the lad a reet big feed
In ‘er boudoir, an’ all
And used up all ‘er wily tricks
To make Columbus fall.

Well, after ‘e’ ‘ad drunk ‘is wine
The saucy little miss
Made love to poor Columbus and
Asked ‘im for a kiss.

Now Isabella was so pleased
Wi’ such a likely boy
She said, “Now what can I give you
To stay in my employ?”

Columbus said, “Well, what I wants
A ship! Now don’t be vexed
America is just the place
To be discovered next.”

‘E promised to be faithful, so
She gave the lad ‘is ship
And pretty soon, in t’ light o’ t’ moon
‘E started on ‘is trip.

‘E soon arrived at New York, to
Be greeted with a band
And t’ President came down on t’ pier
To shake ‘im by the hand.

It gave Columbus quite a thrill
To ‘ear the deaf’ning cheers
They drove ‘im round in Ford V8
And stood ‘im several beers.

‘E saw Sam Goldwyn, and ‘e got
T’ film contract right away
So off ‘e went to Hollywood
By plane that very day.

‘E started with Dorothy Lamour
And Greta Garbo too
And ‘e forgot poor Isabel
As ‘is importance grew.

But popularity tha knows
Is a vain and fickle soul
And soon Columbus lost ‘is job
And ‘ad to go on t’ dole.

‘E soon got reet fed up o’ this
And longed for home again
So, getting t’ ship from t’ pawnbrokers
‘E set sail back to Spain.

Queen Isabella weren’t ‘alf wild
Wi’ Chris, and what d’you think
When ‘e got back to port again
She shoved ‘im straight in t’ clink.

She were so jealous of the girls
‘E’d kissed in t’ U.S.A
She locked ‘im up for fifty years
Or so t’ historian’s say

So if you go to see a Queen
Don’t give the lass an ‘ug
Or you might end up like that there
Wi’ fifty years in t’ jug.
The end