Lyrics
Old Music Hall Songs

Any umberellas
Barefoot Days
Barrer Boy Song
Boiled beef
Burlington Bertie from Bow
Call Round Any Old Time
Emmalina
Fall in and Follow Me
Ginger, you're barmy
I Had a Hat When I Came In
I Lift Up My Finger and I Say Tweet Tweet
It's a Great Big Shame
Let's All Go Down the Strand
A Little Bit o' Cucumber
Mary Ellen at the Church
MY OLD DUTCH
One of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit
A Bird in a Gilded Cage
Susanna's a Funnical Man
Where did you get that 'at?
The Winkle Song
Wot Cher!
WHEN I TAKE MY MORNING PROMENADE

Any Umberellas

Toora luma luma, toora luma luma, toora ly aye
Any umberellas any umberellas to mend today?
Bring your parasol it may be small, it may be big
I can mend them all with what you call a thingamyjig.
Pitter patter patter, pitter patter patter, here comes the rain
Let it pitter patter, let it pitter patter don't mind the rain.
I'll mend your umbrellas and go on my way singing
Toora luma luma toora lye, toora luma luma toora lye
Any umberellas to mend today?

The Barrer Boy Song

Up the apples and pears and across the Rory o'Moore Up to see me dear old trouble and strife. On the Cain and Abel you will always see A pair of Jack the Rippers and a cup of Rosie Lee. What could be better than this, a bit of a cuddle and kiss Out beneath the pale moonlight. When little Tommy Tucker goes up to Uncle Ned Blows out the 'Arry Randle and a jolly good night instead. All me life I wanted to be a barrer boy, A barrer boy I've always wanted to be. I wheels me barrer, I pushes it with pride, I'm a coster, a coster, from over the other side. I turns me back on all the old society I'm going where the ripe bananas grow. I sells 'em a dozen a shilling, that's 'ow I makes me living, I ought to 'ave been a barrer boy years ago. (Get off me barrer!) I ought to 'ave been a barrer boy years ago.

Barefoot Days

Verse: Surely you remember those days that used to be When your Dad and mother, they sang sweet songs to thee We got all dressed up spick and span and off to church we ran But the very best days of all Were when we had no shoes at all:- CHORUS: Barefoot days, when we were just a couple of kids (Get your bowler out) Barefoot days, oh boy the things we did. Down by a shady nook, with a bent pin for a hook. We fished all day, we fished all night But the blooming old fish refused to bite. And off we'd slide, down some old cellar door We'd slip and slide till our clothes were tore, a little more Then we'd have to go home, get into bed While mother got busy with a needle and thread Oh boy, what joy, we had in barefoot days.

Boiled Beef and Carrots

Boiled Beef and Carrots, boiled beef and carrots, That's the stuff for yer Derby Kell Keeps you fit and keeps you well. Don't live like vegetarians on food they give to parrots. From noon to night blow out your kite On boiled beef and carrots.

Burlington Bertie from Bow

From: "John Groushko" Subject: Burlington Bertie from Bow Date: Wed, 21 Apr 1999 22:12:37 +0100 Hi there!
I was doing some research into the words to this song and found your web-site.
This was particularly helpful (thank you) as it told me the correct full title as above.
From this I was able to track down an old printed edition of the full lyric.
I have pasted this below in case you do not already have it.
The writer of words and music is credited as William Hargreaves
and the song appears to date from 1915.
BURLINGTON BERTIE FROM BOW I'm Bert P'raps you've heard of me Bert You've had word of me, Jogging along Hearty and strong Living on plates of fresh air I dress up in fashion And when I am feeling depressed I shave from my cuff all the whiskers and fluff Stick my hat on and toddle up West I'm Burlington Bertie I rise at ten thirty and saunter along like a toff I walk down the Strand with my gloves on my hand Then I walk down again with them off I'm all airs and graces correct easy paces Without food so long I've forgot where my face is I'm Bert, Bert, I haven't a shirt But my people are well off you know. Nearly everyone knows me from Smith to Lord Rosebr'y, I'm Burlington Bertie from Bow. I stroll With Lord Hurlington, Roll In The Burlington Call for Champagne Walk out again Come back and borrow the ink I live most expensive Like Tom Lipton I'm in the swim He's got so much 'oof' he sleeps on the roof And I live in the room over him. I'm Burlington Bertie I rise at ten thirty And saunter along Temple Bar As round there I skip I keep shouting 'Pip Pip!' And the darn'd fools think I'm in my car At Rothschild's I swank it My body I plank it On his front door step with 'The Mail' for a blanket I'm Bert, Bert, and Rothschild was hurt He said ' You can't sleep there' I said 'Oh' He said 'I'm Rothschild sonny!' I said 'That's damn'd funny I'm Burlington Bertie from Bow' I smile Condescendingly While they're extending me Cheer upon cheer When I appear Captain with my polo team So strict are my people They're William the Conqueror's strain If they ever knew I'd been talking to you Why they'd never look at me again I'm Burlington Bertie I rise at ten thirty And reach Kempton park around three I stand by the rail, when a horse is for sale And you ought to see Wooton watch me I lean on some awning while Lord Derby's yawning Then he bids two thousand and I bid Good Morning I'm Bert, Bert, I'd buy one, a Cert But where would I keep it you know I can't let my man see me in bed with a gee-gee I'm Burlington Bertie from Bow! My pose, Tho' ironical Shows That my monocle Holds up my face, keeps it in place, Stops it from slipping away. Cigars, I smoke thousands, I usually deal in The Strand But you've got to take care when you're getting them there Or some idiot might stand on your hand. I'm Burlington Bertie I rise at ten thirty And Buckingham Palace I view. I stand in the yard while they're changing the guard And the queen shouts across "Toodle oo"! The Prince of Wales' brother along with some other Slaps me on the back and says "Come and see Mother" But I'm Bert, Bert, and royalty's hurt, When they ask me to dine I say no. I've just had a banana with Lady Diana I'm Burlington Bertie from Bow. Best, John (Thank you John)

Call Round Any old Time

Call round any old time and make yourself at home, Put your feet on the mantelshelf, Open the cupboard and help yourself. I don't care if your friends have left you all alone. Rich or poor Open the door And make yourself at home.

Emmalina

Oh how I love my little Emmelina But how I wish she was a little cleaner, You ought to see her washing day Then she'd steal your heart away, Dirty little Emmelina Brown

Fall in and Follow Me

Fall in and follow me, fall in and follow me! Come along and never mind the weather, Altogether, stand on me boys, I know the way to go, I'll take you for a spree. You do as I do and you'll do right, Fall in and follow me!

Emmalina

Oh how I love my little Emmelina But how I wish she was a little cleaner, You ought to see her washing day Then she'd steal your heart away, Dirty little Emmelina Brown

Ginger, You're Barmy!

Don't walk about wivout yer cady on, Ginger, you're barmy! Get yer ¬Ďair cut, they all begin to cry Wiv nuffin' on your napper oh, you are pie! Pies must ¬Ďave a little bit o' crust Why don't yer join the army? If you want to look a don you want a bit of somefing on, Ginger, you're barmy!

I Had a Hat When I Came In


I had a hat when I came in and hung it on the rack
And I 'll have a hat when I go out or I'll break somebody's back
I'm a kind and patient man I am but I'll stand up and shout
I had a hat when I came in and I'll have a hat when I go out.

I lift up my finger and say "Tweet Tweet"

Leslie Sarony 1929
I lift up my finger and I say "Tweet tweet, shush shush, now now, come come!" I don't need to linger when I say "Tweet tweet, shush shush, now now, come come!" When the baby screams and scatters my dreams Do I start to sing or hum? No! I lift up my finger and I say "Tweet tweet, shush shush, now now, come come!"

It's a Great Big Shame

It's a great big shame and if she belonged to me I'd let 'er know oo's oo. Nagging at a feller what is six foot free And 'er only four foot two. They 'adn't been married not a month nor more When underneaf 'er fumb goes Jim. Isn't it a pity that the likes of 'er Should put upon the likes of 'im.

Let's All Go Down The Strand

From: sally Date: January 22, 2009 To: bob@londonbobby.com Subject: Lyrics for your website--correction, too! Hi! Love the website-- Let's All Go Down the Strand has more lyrics than you've posted. I grew up with a Stanley Holloway Sings record, these are the full lyrics from his recorded version. -Sally (Thanks, Sally) "Let's all Go down the Strand" One night, half a dozen tourists, Met together in Trafalgar Square A fortnight's tour of the Continent was planned, And each held his Cornetto in his hand. Down the Rhine, they meant to have a picnic, When Jones said, "I must decline. Boys you'll be advised by me, Stay away from Germany. What's the good of going down the Rhine?" Chorus: Let's All go down the Strand ('ave a banana) Let's all go down the Strand. I'll be leader, you can march behind, Come with me and see what we can find. Let's all go down the Strand ('ave a banana) Let's all go down the Strand. That's the place for fun and noise All among the girls and boys --so Let's all go down the Strand.

A Little Bit of Cucumber

I like pickled onions, I like Picalilly, Pickled cabbage is all right Wiv a bit of cold meet on a Sunday night. I can go tomaters but what I do prefer Is a little bit of cucum-, I come, you come, Little bit of cucumber!

Mary Ellen at the Church

Mary Ellen at the church turned up, her pa turned up, her ma turned up Her great big brother Bert and her sister Gert The vicar in his long white shirt turned up But no bridegroom with the ring turned up Just a telegraph boy with his nose turned up Brought a telegram that said He didn't want to wed And you'll find him in the river with his toes turned up.

MY OLD DUTCH

Words by: A.C.Ingle
Music by: Albert Chevalier
I've got a pal, a regular out an' outer.
She's a dear old gal, an' I'll tell you all about 'er;
It's forty years since fust we met, 
Her hair was then as black as jet.
It's whiter now, but she don't fret
Not my old gal.

We've been together now for forty years
An' it don't seem a day too much.
There ain't a lady living in the land
As I'd swap for me dear old Dutch.
No, there ain't a lady living in the land
As I'd swap for me dear old Dutch.



One of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit

I'm one of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit,
One of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit.
In the gay old days there used to be something doing
No wonder that the poor old abbey went to ruin.
Those who raise their voices sing and shout of it,
You can bet your life there isn't a doubt of it.
Outside the Oliver Cromwell last Saturday night
I was one of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit.

Paddlin' Madelin' Home - Harry Woods, 1925


Cause when I'm paddlin' Madelin' home
Gee when I'm paddlin' Madelin' home
First I drift with the tide - Then pull for the shore
I hug her and kiss her and paddle some more,
Then I keep paddlin' Madelin' home
Until I find a spot where we're alone
Oh! she never says no - so I kiss her and go,
Paddlin' Madelin, Sweet, sweet Madelin, 
Paddlin' Madelin home.




Susanna's a Funnical Man

There was an old man and he had an old sow (snort) ow! (raspberry) ow! (whistle) Tiddley ow There was an old man and he had an old sow (snort) ow! (raspberry) ow! (whistle) Tiddley ow Rossel de ray, de row, oh! Susanna's a funnical man (snort) an! (raspberry) an! (whistle) Tiddley an Susanna's a funnical man. She tried to climb over the garden wall (snort) all! (raspberry) all! (whistle) Tiddley all She tried to climb over the garden wall (snort) all! (raspberry) all! (whistle) Tiddley all Rossel de ray, de row, oh! Susanna's a funnical man (snort) an! (raspberry) an! (whistle) Tiddley an Susanna's a funnical man.
From memory (of my uncle Sid), London Bobby

WHEN I TAKE MY MORNING PROMENADE

Words by: A.J.Mills
Music by: Bennett Scott
Sung by: Marie Lloyd
Since Mother Eve in the Garden long ago
Started the fashion, fashion's been a passion,
Eve wore a costume we might describe as brief,
Still every season brought its change of leaf.
She'd stare if she could come to town, 
Oh! what would Mother Eve think of my new Parisian gown?

Chorus:

When I take my morning promenade;
Quite a fashion card, on the Promenade.
Oh! I don't mind nice boys staring hard,
If it satisfies their desire.
Do you think my dress is a little bit,
Just a little bit -
Well not too much of it,
Tho' it shows my shape just a little bit,
That's the little bit the boys admire.

Fancy the girls in the prehistoric days
Each wore a bearskin covering her fair skin,
Lately Salome has charmed us to be sure,
Wearing some rows of beads and not much more.
Fancy my dressing like that, too,
The 'Daily Mirror' man would surely want an interview.

Chorus

I've heard my Grandmother wore the crinoline,
Then came the bustle Oh! it was a tussle,
Women were tied up and loaded up with dress,
Now, fashion plates decree we must wear less.
Each year our costume grows more brief,
I wonder when we'll get back to the good old fashioned leaf?

Chorus
-- Submitted by Jean@rushbury.demon.co.uk. Thanks, Jean.

Where did you get that 'at?

Where did you get that 'at? Where did you get that tile?
Isn't it a knobby one and just the proper style.
I should like to 'ave one, just the same as that,
Where 'ere I go they'd shout, "'Ello!
Where did you get that 'at?"
The Winkle Song
Last Sunday afternoon for tea

I fancied a luxury

So off down the street to old Muvver Wrinkles (Finkels?)

Bought myself a penny worth of winkles

Took 'em home, put 'em on a plate

As 'appy as could be

When my old woman and her fifteen kids and all the family

Came picking all the big ones out, picking all the big ones out

Talk abaht a fish face covered in wrinkles

When I saw my penny worth of winkles

All the big ones gorn

It made me rave and shout

Cos' my old woman and her fifteen kids

Came picking all the big ones out

I can't get my winkle out

Isn't it a do'er

I can't get my winkle out

Anybody here got a skewer ??


Submitted by
Jack Fryatt

 


Wot Cher!

Albert Chevalier
Last week down our alley came a toff,
Nice old geezer with a nasty cough.
Saw my missus takes 'is topper off,
Quite in a gentlemanly way.
"Ma'am," says he, "I have some news to tell,
Your rich Uncle Tom from Camberwell
Popped off recent, which it ain't a sell,
Leaving you his little donkey shay."
Chorus:
"Wot Cher!" all the neighbours cried
"Who're you goin' to meet, Bill?
'Ave yer bought the street, Bill?"
Laugh! I thought I should 'ave died,
Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road!

She's Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage

She's only a bird in a gilded cage, 
A beautiful sight to see.
You may think she's happy and free from care
She's not, though she seems to be.
'Tis sad when you think of her wasted life
For youth cannot mate with age.
And her beauty was sold for an old man's gold
She's a bird in a gilded cage.

Copyright note: I believe all these songs are public domain but if any of this material is still protected it will be removed upon request.
More added from time to time, contributions of lyrics gratefully accepted. Send your inquiries re old songs to:
bob@londonbobby.ca and it will be published on my page at Old Song Inquiry with my answer if I have one. With any luck if I don't know the answer some other kind soul will supply it.


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