The Monday Monologue

There's a little sallow Man lives north of Waterloo

Billy Bennett 1887-1942

There's a little sallow man lives north of Waterloo,

And he owns the toughest music hall in town, 

There are broken-hearted comics, there's a graveyard for them too

And the gallery gods are forever gazing down.

He was known as Fat Caroo in the pubs round Waterloo,

And he wore a green tie with a diamond pin; 

He was worshipped in the ranks by the captain of the swanks,

And the coalman's daughter loved his double chin.

He had loved her all along and despite his ong-bong-pong

The fact that she loved him they say was right, 

Though her complexion was a fake, and her teeth were put and take 

Put in by day and taken out by night.

'Twas the fifteenth anniversary of her twenty-second year,

So he smiled at her as sweetly as a hog 

And asked what present she would like. And jestingly she said: 

"Your green tie for my little yellow dog."

Fat Caroo seemed in a trance and his heart slipped through his pants,

But he tried his utmost not to look a wreck, 

So he handed her the tie and kissed her hand good bye- 

When he bowed his head she bit his neck.

Later on Caroo came to, his tie had gone, it's true

And his tiepin with it! He seemed in a fog.

He rushed liked mad to find, that she'd tied that tie behind

To the tailpiece of her little yellow dog.

She was screaming like a child, the dog was running wild,

Biting policemen as he galloped up the straight; 

For the little dog, called Tom, when he wagged his to and from,

Felt the tie pin urge him on to meet his fate.

The dog returned at dawn with his windscreen slightly torn,

And unseen took something from the lady's room. 

To another room he flew, saying: "That's for Fat Caroo,"

And silently he slunk out in the gloom.

When Caroo jumped into bed, he'd ‘ave wakened up the dead

With a scream as he fell like a hog; 

Her false teeth, they were buried in the seat of Fat Caroo- 

'Twas the vengeance of that little yellow dog.

There's a cockeyed yellow poodle to the north of Conga Pooch;

There's a little hot cross bun that's turning green;

There's a double-jointed woman doing tricks in Chu-Chin-Chow,

And you're a better man than I am, Gunga Din.

-o0o-