@migu music@

Now I'd like to sing you a new song

That I wrote just last summer

When I was having a holiday on the island of capri

Each evening I used to sit on the piazza

And watch these hordes of middle-age ladies

Ariving by every boat

Obviously all set to have themselves a ball

So startled was I by this rather macabre spectacle

That I wrote this song about a respectable english matron

Who discovered in the nick of time

That life was for living

I'll sing you a song it's not very long

It's moral may disconcert you

Of a mother and wife who for most of her life

Was trained for domestic virtue

She had two strapping daughters and a rather dull son

And a much duller husband who at sixty-one

Elected to retire and later on expire

Sing halleluhua heigh-nonny-no

Heigh-nonny-no heigh-nonny-no

He joined the feathered choir

Having laid him to rest by special request

In a family mausoleum

As his widow repaired to the home they had shared

Her heart sang a gay tedeum

And then in the middle of the funeral wake

While adding some liquor to the tipsy cake

She briskly cried that's done

My life's at last begun

Sing halleluhah heigh-nonny-no

Heigh-nonny-no heigh-nonny-no

It's time I had some fun

Today though hardly a jolly day

At least I'll set me free

We'll all have a lovely holiday

On the island of capri

In a bar on the piccola marina

Life called to mrs wentworth-brewster

Fate beckoned her and introduced her

Into a rather queer unfamiliar atmosphere

She'd just sit there propping up the bar

Beside a fisherman who sang to a guitar

When accused of having gone too far

She made reply funiculi just fancy me funicula

When he bellowed que bella signorina

Sheer ecstasy at once produced a wild shriek

From mrs wentworth-brewster

Changing her whole demeanour

When both her daughters and her son said please come home mama

She answered rather bibulously who do you think you are

Nobody can afford to be so la-di-bloody-da

In a bar on the piccola marina

Every fisherman cried viva viva and que ragazza

When she sat on the grand piazza

Everybody would rise

Every fisherman said viva viva que belle inglese

Someone even said whoops-a-daisy

Which was quite a surprise

Each evening with some light excuse and beaming with goodwill

She'd just slip into something loose and totter down the hill

To that bar on the piccola marina

Where love came to mrs wentworth-brewster

Hot flushes of delight suffused her

Right round the bend she went picture her astonishment

Day in day out she would gad about

Because she felt she was no longer on the shelf

Night out night in knocking back the gin

She cried funicula funiculi funnic-yourself

Just for fun three young sailors from messina

Bowed low to mrs wentworth-brewster

Said scusi and abruptly goosed her

Then there was quite a scene

Her family in floods of tears cried leave these men mama

She said they are just high-spirited like all italians are

And most of them have a great deal more to offer than papa

In a bar on the piccola marina

A Bar on the Piccola Marina - Noel Coward and Orchestra