Mrs Murphy

Hello Mrs Murphy

That's a lovely dress you're wearing

Is it new

Why, thank you Mr Wilson

But I've had that same old dress about a year or two

Upstairs in bed, the tall boy stretched just like a cat

Put his hands behind his head

And lay there thinking of a dream that he had

I hear that the Johnsons had a baby, Mrs Murphy

Is that true

Why yes, but it's rumoured that the little tot's real daddy lives in 22

In 22, the boy lay whistling out of tune

Fighting on the seas

Dreaming of a thousand things he'd like to be

Poor Mr Johnson being married to a wife who should be caged

It's the child who will suffer

And to think that young man is less than half her age

Upstairs he sits, he hears a knock, and nothing more

Come on in, you're late

Well, don't just stand there Mrs. Johnson

Close the door