OUR STUCK-UP LITTLE SQUARE
 
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I live in such a toffish part you'd fancy I'm a swell
The houses, tho' not mansions, in a fog look just as well
The neighbours hold their heads up so, you'd think they all had means
But as I do their snobbing, well I see behind the scenes
At Number One the bell has gone - she couldn't stand the sound
But her husband finds it handy when he goes his Sunday round
She says he had an accident when grouse he went to shoot
'The hammer caught his fingers' - yes, a-snobbing of his boot.

Chorus: They go sniffing down your chimney just to see what's on the hob
If you're dining off Welsh rare-bit or a hare
If it's left unlocked a minute, your half-a-ton they'll skin it
In our sweet suburban stuck-up little square.


A brand new guinea topper he's got on at Number Five
She tells me he's a traveller - in 'Catch 'em all alive!'
He lately lost a Summer suit, but it's my firm belief
That if he had a decent wash he'd find 'em underneath
He can't abear a handsom if a growler he can find
But it must be rather awkward when they holler 'Whip behind'
The daughter's got a mantle now, a lovely shade of red
I wondered where the dickens was the valance off her bed.

Chorus: Every face is at each window if you've got on something new
They can tell you how you got it, when and where
If you break your yellow basin, it gets known to all the nation
In our sweet suburban stuck-up little square.


At Number Six, the Parlours hold receptions when in town
They've mortgaged all the property, the ticket cost a 'brown'
There's someone stole the railings, and the boys got all the blame
But all the pokers in that house in pattern are the same
I wish they'd pay me what they owe - you know the usual plan
They've always got a cheque to cash - yes, two pence on a can
I saw them in the dust-bin, lost a sov'reign they complain
Other people's tea-leaves - they make 'em do again.

Chorus: They will be so nice and pleasant, but they'll talk behind your back
Watch your missis' garments drying in the air
Her character they're killing, if she's got two rows of frilling
In our sweet suburban stuck-up little square!
 
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Performed by Charles Godfrey (1851-1900)
 
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