EVERYTHING IS BEAUTIFUL IN THE GARDEN
 
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When I got married a year ago, I took a house up in Pimlico
Talk about troubles without any ending
The windows fell out and the roof wanted mending
The landlord won't do any repairs
The rats have gnawed holes in the stairs
And one night I heard a most terrible yell
As clean through the ceiling my old woman fell
Ahhh,

Chorus: But everything is beautiful in the garden
Everything is quite beyond compare
There the dustmen never come, and the flowerpots seem to hum
Oh, it's beautiful, beautiful there!


I wouldn't stick in the house at all,
But for our garden, altho' it's so small
I've tried to dig it up times without number
But all I can grow there is old boots and lumber
A fine cemetary for cats
The neighbours come there to shake mats
I've put tons of chloride of lime down the drains
And you ought to see it - for, straight, when it rains -

Chorus: But everything is beautiful in the garden
Everything is quite beyond compare
Like the Lea it overflows
And then you've got to hold your nose
Oh, it's beautiful, beautiful there!


My country cousins came up one day
And my old woman asked them to stay
They wouldn't sleep in the cellars or attics
Because they were frightened they'd cop the rheumatics
So I got the needle and said
'If you can't put up with your bed,
You'd better sling out of it, if you don't mind
And sleep out the back, for I'm certain you'll find -

Chorus: But everything is beautiful in the garden
Everything is quite beyond compare
You'll soon get used to the drains,
And there's the dusthole when it rains
Oh, it's beautiful, beautiful there!'


Monday the landlord said, 'Bill, look here
You'll pay your rent or you've got to clear!'
He's not a man who will be contradicted
So yesterday evening he had us evicted
He said, 'Now, I won't be too hard
I'll put all your sticks in the yard.'
So out went our bed and our table and things
And we roost with the cats whilst the old woman sings,

Chorus: But everything is beautiful in the garden
Everything is quite beyond compare
We can lay and sniff the breeze
And hunt for spiders 'stead of fleas
Oh, it's beautiful, beautiful there!
 
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Written and composed by H. Leighton - 1897
Performed by Harry Kent
 
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