A gay British tourist embarked on a ship,
And he sailed off to Corsica bent on a trip.
The 'Corsican Brothers' he'd seen in a play,
But the Corsican sisters were more in his way.
Before long a Corsican damsel he met,
A beautiful raven-haired dark-eyed brunette.
One glance at those eyes set his brain in a whirl
So he smiled, raised his hat, and spoke thus to the girl;-

Chorus: 'Can you come for a walk with me, little girl?
In the twilight on the sands?
Can you spare time to talk to me, little girl?
May I squeeze your tiny hands?
Can you spare me a kiss, little Miss?'
Full of bliss, said the stalwart Englishman
She winked as she said, 'I'm a Corsican Maid
So of course I can.'

So just as the daylight was fading away,
They strolled arm-in-arm round the shore of the bay.
And tho' his command of her language was small,
That did not prove a bar to flirtation at all.
Though she spoke no English, the pair did not care,
The language of love is the same everywhere.
The sun in the West sank in splendour sublime,
But the pair didn't notice they didn't have time.


Their lips just met in a rapturous kiss,
When a deep voice in Corsican cried, 'Ha, what's this?'
Their feelings received a most terrible shock,
As the girl's papa suddenly sprang round a rock.
He brandished a knife so the tourist took flight,
Without even waiting to bid her good night.
And though he saw lots of nice girls the next day,
He was feeling too nervous of ladies to say,


Written and composed by George Fearnley & George M. Saker - 1909
Performed by Evie Green (1876-1917)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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