Mister Gibson, once a military man,
Uses military language when he can.
Once he left his quiet suburban nest
With six pals he went up west.
Said the others, "Now, what shall we do?
As we want some fun, we'll leave it all to you."
Then Gibson swelled with military pride
Twirling his moustache, he cried,

Chorus: "Fall in and follow me. Fall in and follow me
Come along and never mind the weather
All together, stand on me, boys.
I know the way to go, I promise you a spree
You do as I do, and you'll do right. Fall in and follow me,"
Off they went to see a ballet gay that night
And the lovely dancing girls gave them delight.
Then behind the scenes they thought they'd go
Said, "These girls we'd like to know"
Gibson quickly led the way, for sure,
Through a dark passage until they reached a door
And then he stopped and whispered low,
"I guess this is where the fairies dress,"


Something after twelve they started home again
Had to walk, they lost the last suburban train
By the old canal they tramped along, singing out the latest song
Then they saw their wives, oh what a scream
Walking up towards them by the flowing stream
Then Gibson slipped and fell into the tide
Splashed about and loudly cried,


Just by the House of Commons stood a band of Suffragettes
And the lot were screaming for the vote
When all at once there came a crowd of gentlemen in blue
And very quickly captured all the crew
The prison van was ordered from the station
And soon the ladies were far from gay
The driver cracked his whip and cried
When the lot were packed inside
"Last bus, girls, for Holloway"

Written and composed by A.J. Mills & Bennett Scott
Performed by Albert Whelan (1875-1962)
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