MARJOR-IE! MARJOR-OSH!
 
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A maiden fair was mashed on me, Marjor-ie!
But don't blame her, she couldn't see, Marjor-ie!
You see, the poor thing was blind,
And so, you'll be prepared to find,
I got blind too, she didn't mind!
Poor Marjor-ind.

Chorus: Marjor-ie! Marjor-ist!
Sweet seventeen and she'd not been kissed!
She was a thing of grace,
And she always washed her face,
In lemon-squash, did Marjor-osh!

One bright June day she called on me, Marjor-ie!
The cowslips whistled in the snow, Marjor-oh!
I told a lie without a blush,
Said I was out, oh, what a rush!
Se wept and fell down in the slush,
Poor Marjor-ush!

Chorus: Marjor-ie! Marjor-ist!
Sweet seventeen and she'd not been kissed!
She coughed a little cough,
And then the girl went off,
Into 'high strikes', did Marjor-ikes!

Then soft and sad her nose she blew, Marjor-oo!
She sneezed a snooze and said 'Ta-ta!', Marjor-ar!
She said, 'I'm dying, do not mope!
For keepsake, take this bit of rope,
Good morning, have you used 'Pears' soap?'
Poor Marjor-ope!

Chorus: Marjor-ie! Marjor-ist!
Sweet seventeen and she'd not been kissed!
Steadman's boys then sang a glee,
That settled her, for she,,
Turned up her toes, did Marjor-ose!

My grief was awful for a tick, Margor-ick!
You see I loved the little maid, Marjor-ade!
And o'er her grave, down in the slums,
A tree I planted, each year comes,
A lovely crop of pickled plums,
Poor Marjor-ums!

Chorus: Marjor-ie! Marjor-ist!
Sweet seventeen and she'd not been kissed!
Off that tree you eat a plum,
And as sure as kingdom come,
You'll get the gripes, poor Marjor-ipes!
 
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Written and composed by Richard Morton & H.E. Pether
Performed by George Robey (1869-1954)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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