I am a most inoffensive young man
I've lived all my life on a primitive plan
I'm the Vicar's right hand and his left hand as well
But a fortnight ago I was tempted and fell
For though I'm a curate I'm fond of all sport
Such as butterfly catching and things of that sort
I hied to a meeting where gee-gees do race
And they showed me a horse that was sure of a place.

Chorus: Oh, what would the vicar say?
I had a bob each way
'Twas a sin what I did - but I won half a quid
What would the congregation say?

With Music hall places I do not agree
So last week a performance I popped in to see
Where a certain young damsel most beauteous to behold
Appeared in a costune which must have been cold
Upon a tight wire she performed with great skill
She danced all along it and twiddled at will
Till at length with a shriek that quite made me sick
She fell on that wire and was cut to the quick.

Chorus: Oh, what would the vicar think?
I murmured, 'Let us pray.'
They turned out the lights - for she'd punctured her tights
What would the congregation say?

I'm fond of high art, so last Summer, you see
I went to look round a new Art Galleree
Where the pictures were not very good, I must say
But the statues - tut-tut and yea, verily yea
I gazed on one labelled Diana the Fair
Who wore a most stolid, indifferent air
And thought as I gazed on that statuesque Miss
'Our dear Watch Committee won't care much for this.'

Chorus: Oh, what would the Vicar think?
If he were here today
When a voice that was his said, 'That's all right, that is.'
What would the congregation say.

A pretty young widow once came to reside
In the parish of Splosh, over which I preside
Her hair was a beautiful golden, but oh
The dresses she wore were not quite comme-il-faut
The vicar remarked, 'We'll not go there at all.'
But I thought, 'Poor soul' and I paid her a call
I found her as sweet and as nice as could be
I sat on the sofa, with her on my knee.

Chorus: Oh, what would the vicar think?
I went again next day
My heart nearly burst, for I found him there first
What would the congregation say?

Written and composed by Bert Lee - 1908
Performed by Ernest Shand (1868-1924)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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