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“And the Only Tune that He Could Play”
Jane, Jane, my upstairs neighbor,
Learned to play with lots of labor,
But the only thing she ever would play
Was the sextet from “Lu-ci-a.”’
Learned to play with lots of labor,
But the only thing she ever would play
Was the sextet from “Lu-ci-a.”’
Tom, Tom, the man below,
Plays for hours on the pi-an-o,
Plays no tune but the “Melody in F,”
And only that in the treble clef.
Plays for hours on the pi-an-o,
Plays no tune but the “Melody in F,”
And only that in the treble clef.
Across the court is a Fair Unknown
Who loves to listen to the Talkiphone,
And the only record she cares to spring
Is that “Every Little Movement” thing.
Who loves to listen to the Talkiphone,
And the only record she cares to spring
Is that “Every Little Movement” thing.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
Loves to practise the ‘‘Miserere”;
Ben, Ben, the gink next door us,
Knows no tune but “The Pilgrims’ Chorus.”
Loves to practise the ‘‘Miserere”;
Ben, Ben, the gink next door us,
Knows no tune but “The Pilgrims’ Chorus.”
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