I feel so overjoyed I do, for Mrs Simkins, she
Has been ordered by the doctors for to take a trip to sea
I don't mean to go upon the ocean, oh dear no
But just to take a sniff you know, where briny breezes blow
And the wife's gone away for a week, whoo!
|Patter: (Uh, this is the first holiday I've had since we've been married, and we've been married four years and three months come half past eleven o' clock tomorrow morning. Laugh. I.....she said to me when I came home from work, she said, Dearest, she said, I'm, I'm very ill. I said What's the matter? She said, The doctor says I've got Scotch Mist. Huh. Well, I've never heard of that complaint before. Course I know how she got it, you know. I've been out of work a week, and she had no money to buy Scotch with, and I suppose she missed it. That's it. So I said, Well, what has the doctor ordered? She said, The doctor says I must go away for a week. Huh. All alone for a week! I couldn't help laughing. She turned round, she said, You brute! You massive brute! She said, I don't believe you care. I believe you wish I was dead. Isn't it funny how wives guess your thoughts? I said, No Darling. I said, But you must hurry up and catch the train in the morning. So I put the clock on four hours. We had to get up before we went to bed, and we jumped up and I rolled her some currant bread up in a piece of paper to take with her and I dropped a piece on the floor, and it killed the cat - cat's dead. When I - when I got her to the station I couldn't contain myself. I bought her two tickets, one for her and one for herself. I got hold of the guard. I said, What time does the train go? He said to me, In five minutes. I said, Let it off in two minutes and there's a pint of ale for you. He said, Shall I lock the lady in? I said, Nail her in! Hammer her in! And when the train was out of the station, I turned round and kissed all the porters, and I had two cabs home and ran between them, and I've had four breakfasts this morning. 'Cos you know the wife would never let me have a breakfast, 'cos it made me bilious. But that's not the idea, you know, it's because she can't cook. She once made some pancakes, but she made them on the grid iron and they slipped through and put the fire out. And once she made a Christmas pudding and boiled it in a kettle. Of course when it boiled and swelled up we couldn't get it out. We had to - we had to beat it up like eggs and pour it out of the spout.)
But oh what a lark I'm going to have tomorrow
(I'm going to have such a time of it).
My liberty I will regain, no more to be put down.
And oh what a spree, I'll pawn, beg or borrow
For my old lady, for a week, has just gone out of town.