CUSTOMS OF THE COUNTRY
 
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In manner orthodox,
In England we wear frocks,
That's the custom of the country, don't you know.
Africa, no doubt,
They do alright, without,
That's the custom of the country there! Just so!
In England, every son
Of wifes has only one,
If you marry more, you're wrong, so there you are!
But in Persia, married men
Have at least three score and ten.
If you don't believe me, go and ask the Shah!

Chorus: That's the custom of the country! Very nice custom too!
Marriage is a lottery, there's not the slightest doubt,
Some of them go tying knots and others go without.
Up in Scotland, they're fond of wedded bliss,
And they're not a bit afraid, no fear!
Courting, marriage, honeymoon
Other things occuring, soon,
That's the custom of the country, here!

I'm told that in Fiji,
Each interesting 'she'
Paints herself all over and just wears shells.
That job, our girls would shirk,
They're not so fond of work;
So they paint their face and that does just as well.
In far-away Samoa,
They ought to wear some more!
It's so very warm, the ladies go half bare;
Now, our ladies, thin or fat,
Wouldn't walk about like that;
No, they save their bare-back show for evening wear!

Chorus: That's the custom of the country! Very nice custom too!
There's the playful Hottentot, you know he plays the game.
Though he isn't civilised, he gets there, just the same.
Out in Turkey, they've harems, so I'm told,
Where they keep their pretty ladies dear;
But, we don't, you bet your hats!
No, we're satisfied with flats!
That's the custom of the country here!

You've been to gay Paree?
What say? You think so? Oui?
Well, the customs of that country are not slow;
At lots of places there,
You'll find the bill of fare,
Is a little bit recherche, don't you know.
Upon the boulevard,
A lady hands her card,
And remarks, 'We've met in Angleterre, I think?'
If the girl is pretty, chaps,
You say, 'Very likely, per'aps!'
Then the custom of the country is a drink!

Chorus: That's the custom of the country! Very nice custom too!
Paris is a rapid place, it wouldn't suit your wife,
When you've known a girl an hour, you've known her all her life.
Here, in England, we're far from circumspect,
And we'd snub a forward maiden fair,
But she takes you home, to tea and you stop for supper, oui?
That's the custom of the country, there.

 
PDF Sheet Music
 
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Written and composed by J.P. Harrington & Jas. W. Tate - 1907
Performed by Marie Lloyd (1870-1922)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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