Roger Brocksom
Now long ago in olden times, 
There lived, in Middle East, 
Delilah, Samson's wife was she, 
Like Beauty and the Beast.

For Samson 'e were funny chap,
His ways was somewhat queer; 
He wore 'is 'air right down 'is back, 
And over either ear. 

This weren't the fashion in those days, 
For t' lads all wore short hair; 
And t' kids cried "Pansy!" after Sam, 
And rude words like that there.

But Samson weren't no weakling though, 
For 'e could fight and box; 
And t' secret of 'is long 'air were 
It made 'im strong as ox.

So Samson made 'is living as
A strong man in a show ;
Great iron bars he'd break like sticks,
All wrestlers 'e could throw.

Delilah were quite proud o' Sam, 
His strength and good looks too; 
But with 'is wavy flowing mane 
She puzzled what to do.

It wasn't right for a mere man 
Like Samson, so she thought, 
To have such long and curly hair, 
While hers was straight and short.

But what annoyed 'er more than owt 
Was when they got to bed ; 
He'd comb 'is 'air throughout the night, 
In spite o' what she said.

The last straw came one Friday night, 
When, after wrestling win, 
'E went to bed and 'e began 
To put curlpapers in.

Delilah, she was right fed up,
And middle o' the night,
Wi' pair o' shears, all nice and sharp,
She sheared 'im... what a fright!

When 'e awoke next morning and 
Perceived 'is shaven head; 
He cried like baby—aye, and sulked, 
And spent the day in bed.

But what 'e didn't realize
Was, as 'e'd lost 'is mane,
He'd lost 'is strength, and couldn't lift
Hisself from t' bed again.

So there 'e lay, in t' bed all day, 
To let 'is 'air regrow; 
Delilah 'ad to go to work, 
Which served 'er right, you know.

So if your husband does the work, 
And brings home £. s. d., 
Don't worry if 'e's got long 'air— 
Just let the poor chap be.
The end