Classic Poem

VERSE

In a " bijou " abode
In St. Barnabas Road
Not far from the Esher bypass
Lived a mother and wife
Who, most of her life,
Let every adventure fly past.
She had two strapping daughters and a rather dull son
And a much duller husband who at sixty-one
Elected to retire
And, later on, expire,
Sing Hallelujah, Hey nonny-no, Hey nonny-no, Hey nonny-no!
He joined the feathered choir.
On a wet afternoon
In the middle of June
They all of them came home soaking
Having laid him to rest
By special request
In the family vault at Woking,
And then in the middle of the funeral wake
With her mouth full of excellent Madeira cake
His widow cried, " That's done,
My life's at last begun,
Sing Hallelujah, Hey nonny-no, Hey nonny-no, Hey nonny-no!
It's time I had some fun.
Today, though hardly a jolly day,
At least has set me free,
We'll all have a lovely holiday
On the island of Capri! "

REFRAIN 1

In a bar on the Piccola Marina
Life called to Mrs. Wentworth-Brewster,
Fate beckoned her and introduced her
Into a rather queer
Unfamiliar atmosphere.
She'd just sit there, propping up the bar
Beside a fisherman who sang to a guitar.
When accused of having gone too far
She merely cried, " Funiculi,
Just fancy me!
Funicula! "
When he bellowed " Che bella signorina! "
Sheer ecstasy at once produced a
Wild shriek from Mrs. Wentworth-Brewster,
Changing her whole demeanor.
When both her daughters and her son said,
" Please come home, Mama, "
She murmured rather bibulously, " Who d'you think you are? "
Nobody can afford to be so lahdy-bloody-da
In a bar on the Piccola Marina.

INTERLUDE

Every fisherman cried,
" Viva viva " and " Che ragazza. "
When she sat in the Grand Piazza
Everybody would rise,
Every fisherman sighed, " Viva viva che bella' Inglesi, "
Someone even said, " Whoops-adaisy! "
Which was quite a surprise.
Each night she'd make some gay excuse
And beaming with goodwill
She'd just slip into something loose
And totter down the hill.

REFRAIN 2

To the bar on the Piccola Marina
Where love came to Mrs. Wentworth-Brewster,
Hot flushes of delight suffused her,
Right 'round the bend she went,
Picture her astonishment,
Day in, day out she would gad about
Because she felt she was no longer on the shelf.
Night out, night in, knocking back the gin
She'd cry, " Hurrah!
Funicula
Funiculi
Funic yourself! "
Just for fun three young sailors from Messina
Bowed low to Mrs. Wentworth-Brewster,
Said " Scusi " and politely goosed her.
Then there was quite a scena.
Her family, in floods of tears, cried,
" Leave these men, Mama. "
She said, " They're just high-spirited, like all Italians are,
And most of them have a great deal more to offer than Papa
In a bar on the Piccola Marina. "