Edwin Boyde
A speciman in me yer find,
Of a rorty sort o' bloke;
Who gets an honest bit o' grub,
By selling coals and coke.
I comes to see my donah here,
Whene'er I'm passing by;
And if she isn't in the way,
You just should hear me cry.

Chorus: Whoa! Alice, where art thou Alice?
'Spose you're out spreeing and having a chow;
Long with that broken-down toff at the corner,
Whoa! Alice, where art thou?

My Alice is a nobby gal,
As gentle as yer please;
And for a rorty sort o' bloke,
She's just the very cheese.
And as I means to wed her soon,
I've sweared a solemn swore;
If e'er I get hold of that toff,
I'll dislocate his jaw.


I don't kid that I'm 'andsome, or
A wealthy kind o' chap;
But you can take my tip as 'ow,
I doesn't care a rap.
I isn't proud or stuck up, and
To needy pals I'll part;
For Joe Brown from the coal-shed is,
A bloke what's got a 'eart!

Written and composed by T.F. Robson
Performed by Edwin Boyde (1870-1909)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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