|THE END OF THE SONG|
Two gay fellows in the gaslight,
Been out for an evening's spree
'Say old chappie, things are moving,
Ground's gone'round, it seems to me
Here's two lamp-posts both together,
Hang it, where's my watch and chain?'
'What's the matter? Hold up cocky!
Got the jim-jams once again?
Hallo, Charlotte, going home dear?
What, don't you know me? What a shame.
Go to Bath? all right, old ducky
Thank you kindly, do the same!'
Refrain: They stagger along, singing like two true men
'Won't go home till morning, and won't go home then'
They won't leave off singing their song even when
A p'liceman comes quickly along
'Move on! you be blowed, we won't move, we're alright'
And then, with the bobby, the Johnnies show fight
An ambulance comes, and a cell for the night
Is the end of the song.
'Tis a little skylark, singing
In a land far, far away
Where a tired successful miner
Deep in peaceful slumber lay
See, a burly man approaches
With a dagger in his hand
Kneels beside the sleeper gently
For his murder he has planned
He intends to rob his victim
Now his ruffian hand is raised
Hark! a sound of sweetest music
And the villain stops amazed.
Refrain: He looks at the skylark with glance stern and wild
It brings back the time when he played as a child
In the fields and he thinks of his mother so mild
Who taught him to know right from wrong
The dagger he hurriedly dashes away
With heart-rending sobs to his God hear him pray
Thro' a bird there's a man saved from murder
At the end of the song.
'Tis a fortress, out in India
And the mutiny is on
Starved and wounded men and women
Stand at bay, so pale and wan
They're besieged by countless Sepoys
Food and water they have none
Anxiously their eyes are straining
In the blazing glist'ning sun
For relieving troops they're looking
List'ning too, with bated breath
For the tramp of comrades who will
Save them from far worse than death.
Refrain: Hark! comrades, what sound was the borne on the breeze?
It can't be the bag-pipes, 'tis only the trees
Then women and men sink, at once, on their knees
To pray their hopes may not be wrong
The Cambells are coming, the dangers they've braved
Strong men weep for joy, hats and 'kerchiefs are waved
'Tis the Scotch to the rescue, thank Heaven we're saved
At the end of the song.
|Words and music by E.W. Rogers - 1894|
|Performed by Vesta Tilley (1864-1952)|
|From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection|