You talk about your lovely scent and roses sweet perfume,
Give me the gutter where for hours I squat,
And watch a little window pane that hides a dirty room,
Till the neighbours think I'm fairly off my dot;
Just behind that little window there's a donah gone on me,
And there I sit and whistle till her ugly mug I see.

Chorus: (whistle) Dear, I'm waiting for you here,
Every night at eight you'll hear me cry;
Then from the window up above,
You'll hear the donah that I love, (whistle)
I'll be wid yer bye and bye.

We ramble through these lovely meadows round in Collins street,
Have a sea-breeze at a fishy oyster store;
She tells me she is thirsty, so I buy myself a drink,
Then says she, 'I'm just as thirsty as before.'
I said, 'My dear, I'll wed yer if you'll pinch your father's till.'
So I'll call for her tonight, because she says perhaps she will.


I told her that I loved her, so she murmered, 'You're a liar.'
Then I gave her fifteen pence for one and three;
She said, 'My pretty button boots are never full of feet,
For I've got no button boots, you see.
I sneaked her new silk gamp and left her standing in the rain,
And tonight, for spite, I'll whistle at that window once again.

Written, composed and performed by Tom Woottwell (1865-1941)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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