A F Harrold:The Sitwell Song

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“The Sitwell Song”
Artist: A F Harrold
Albums: An Englishman's Home Is His (Modestly Priced) Third Album (2006)
Cats Are Better Than Fish (2012)
Composers: A.F. Harrold
Lyricists: A.F. Harrold
Information The accuracy of the lyrics on this page is questionable and may require verification.
Please discuss this issue on the talk page. Editing help is available.


I sat down with several Sitwells
To a splendid and sumptuous supper
Osbert was nowhere nearby because
He'd gone out to buy butter
After an hour I feared for him so and I
Thought he had come a cropper
But Edith remarked don't worry dear boy
He's a very meticulous shopper
A very meticulous shopper indeed
A very meticulous shopper

Now the Queen of Denmark was holding forth
On a subject close to her heart
To be nude is not rude in the land of my birth
In fact it's akin to an art she said
Edith was first to make an attempt
To put Her Highness at her ease
By removing her earrings and then all her clothes
In an angular sort of striptease
An angular sort of striptease indeed
An angular sort of striptease

Sacheverell stood, slapped at his side
Edith he said, oh Edith he cried
Please have some decorum, let modesty linger
But Edith just turned, gave him the finger
Gave him the finger indeed, she did
Gave him the finger indeed

A snigger was heard from the end of the table
Where Sir Winston Churchill sat
He applauded at Edith's tenacity
And slowly removed his hat
He took off his coat, took off his tie
His trousers, his shirt and his bra
And he sat there, a great pink pile of flesh
Puffing away his cigar
Puffing away his cigar indeed
A-puffing away his cigar

Sacheverell stood, no longer for this
And out of the room he strode
Grabbing his hat from the hallway hook
And blustering into the road
All eyes at the table turned to me
I felt duty and honour bound
And quickly each article warming my corpse
Slowly slipped to the ground
Slowly slipped to the ground they did
Slowly slipped to the ground

Well the meal went ahead as only meals do
And no-one was scalded or bitten
And Edith was pointing out all sorts of things
That possibly someone had written
Noël Coward was giving a lecture that night
On certain Peruvian tribes
Who'd give access to rituals of bongo delight
For particu'ly moderate bribes
For particu'ly moderate of bribes he said
For particu'ly moderate bribes

Now the Queen of Denmark was raising her voice
And her arms and her chest and her eyes
And speaking aloud of the uses of forks
When we heard a loud cry of surprise
From the doorway resounded a tremulous voice
Which Edith was quick to place
Oh Osbert she cried, oh Osbert my love
If you'd look at the look on your face
If you'd look at the look on your face indeed
If you look at the look on your face

Now Osbert placed the butter into the tray
Wonderfully set aside for this use
And grabbing young Edith in both of his hands
Whittled a little excuse
Explaining the length to which he had gone
To purchase the purchase he'd bought
From a swarthy gent of foreign persuasion
He'd met outside Marlborough Court
He'd met outside Marlborough Court indeed
Or it might have been Bow Street Court

Patrick Moore waved a hand high in the air
Well, as high as young Patrick could reach
And signalling frantically turned to the moon
Which hung in the sky like a peach
From a peach of particu'ly pale colouring
From which half was segmented away
But all the same like a fruit which cannot be seen
By the light of the brightness of day
By the light of the brightness of day not at all
By the light of the brightness of day

Now we noticed perched in the Lunar sphere
A visage both dreadful and grim
And George Bernard Shaw chuckled and said
If you squinted it looked just like him
Poor Moore took offence at such a poor jest
And challenged old Shaw to a duel
So into the snow each of the strode
Armed with a handful of gruel
Armed with a handful of gruel they were
Armed each with a handful of gruel

Well
Shaw threw at Moore just as Moore threw at Shaw
And the gruel mixed between in the air
With a terrible wail there arose a small gale
And gruel missed both parts of the pair
Shaw was all shamed and Moore was the same
As each nude in the snow they stood
Two vast islands of men with such space in between
The Queen giggled oh boys that was good
She giggled oh boys that was good indeed
She giggled oh boys that was good

Now placated somewhat by the Queen's lack of wrath
The two men shook hands in the garden
But the George Bernard Shaw let out a small roar
Resolutely refused to say pardon
The atmosphere suffered it's honest to say
As Shaw broke wind once more
And Noël Coward just rose, uptilted his nose
Reminds me a bit of Roquefort he said
Reminds me a bit of Roquefort dear boy
Reminds one a bit of Roquefort

Well
We all went inside, dessert had arrived
We tucked into our trifle with relish
A strange combination, caused quite a sensation
From Cissbury Ring to Melhuish
And after cigars our various cars
Arrived one by one at the door
And Edith helped us out and fastened our belts
And we saw one another no more

Now
When it's late in December I like to remember
That picture of George Bernard Shaw
Standing out in the garden, no trace of a hardon
Stark naked with young Patrick Moore
It's an image to savour, no expense for the flavour
It shirks like I've mentioned before
Though we all went our ways I remember the days
And the nights of old thirty-four
I remember the days and all of the nights
Of the winter of old thirty-four
Of the winter of old thirty-four indeed
Of the winter
Of old
Thirty-four