Where has that old friend gone?
Lost in a February song.
Tell him it won't be long,
‘Til [Until] he opens his eyes,
Opens his eyes.

Woke up one morning half asleep,
With all my blankets in a heap,
And yellow roses scattered all around.
The time was still approaching four,
I couldn't stand it anymore
Some marigolds upon my eiderdown.

The summer sun is fading as the year grows old,
And darker days are drawing near
The winter winds will be much colder
Now you're not here.

How many kinds of sweet flowers grow
In an English country garden?
I'll tell you now of some that I know
And those I miss you'll surely pardon:
Daffodil, heart's ease and phlox
Meadowsweet and lady smocks
Gentian, lupine and tall hollihocks,
Roses, foxgloves, snowdrops, forget-me-nots,
In an English country garden.

It were half past eleven,
I got in from t'pub,
I were feelin' hungry,
Feelin' hungry.

Oodelay, Yoodelay,
Sitting in a tree.
Nobody comes to visit me.
Dibble Dabble in the babbling brook
Got stuck on a fisherman's hook.

This is livin', this is style, this is elegance by the mile
Oh the posh posh travelling life, the travelling life for me
First cabin and captain's table regal company
Whenever I'm bored I travel abroad but ever so properly
Port out, starboard home, posh with a capital P-O-S-H, posh

Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,...

You've got a beautiful chin.
You've got beautiful skin.
You’ve got a beautiful face. 
You’ve got taste.

If you ever go down Trinidad
They make you feel so very glad
Calypso sing and make up rhyme
Guarantee you one real good fine time.

I've just got here, through Paris, from the sunny southern shore;
I to Monte Carlo went, just to raise me winter's rent.
Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she'd never done before,
And I've now such lots of money, I'm a gent.
Yes, I've now such lots of rhino, I'm a gent.

As I walk along the Bois Boolong
With an independent air
You can hear the girls declare
"He must be a Millionaire."
You can hear them sigh and wish to die,
You can see them wink at the other eye
At the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo.

Round like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel,
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel,
Like a snowball down a mountain, or a carnival balloon,
Like a carousel that's turning running rings around the moon,
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face,
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space.
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind.

This is for Bedirhan on Disqus.

Evening all.

I'd like to tell you a story about when I was a very young boy. I must have been three or four months old at the time, and I didn't know what I wanted, but if I did, I wouldn't have known how to tell anybody, 'cos all I could do was gurgle. So I sat there in me [my] highchair, thinking one day, looking at me [my] tray and thinking what I'd give for a meal on there. So I started looking round the kitchen to see what I could have. I was rubbing me [my] eggy soldier in me [on my] head, trying to think, and then I looked over in the corner and there's a yellow and white breadbin with its mouth open, just staring at me, like. I saw bread in there.

We are family
I got all my sisters with me.
We are family
Get up everybody and sing.
We are family
I got all my sisters with me.
We are family
Get up everybody and sing.