AND THE FOG GREW THICKER AND THICKER
 
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Although I'm a giddy young dog
And fond of a lark with a girl when it's dark
I must say I don't like the fog
'Twas a foggy night when I met Miss Jenny Wren
The fog grew thicker and thicker
And thicker and thicker than that
I said, 'Will you marry me my pretty maid?'
And she answered, 'Oh yes.' Saucy cat!
Then the fog cleared away and I caught sight of her face
When I saw the street lamps flicker
Then I made an excuse and I ran like the deuce
And the fog grew thicker and thicker.

I'm awfully fond of a fight
A bout with the gloves, every Englishman loves
I met Bombardier Wells last night
He closed one of my eyes, then a mist seemed to rise
The fog grew thicker and thicker
And thicker and thicker than that
I said, 'That chap hit me.' They said, 'Don't be silly.
He only just gave you a tap.'
Well, he gave me another right under the place
Where I always keep my ticker
Then I laid down to die and sang Tosti's 'Good-bye'
And the fog grew thicker and thicker.

I'm awfully fond of a swim
It's easy for me as I live by the sea
One day while indulging this whim
There was fog in the air, but still I didn't care
And the fog grew thicker and thicker
And thicker and thicker than that
I went to the place where I'd left all my clothes
But I found nothing there but my hat
And while I was looking, a lady came by
'Twas the wife of our good Vicar
And she murmured, 'Dear me, I am sorry to see
That the fog's grown thicker and thicker.'
 
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Written and composed by J.P. Long
Performed by Ernie Mayne (1871-1937)
 
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