Poppa Piccolino Petula Clark

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All over Italy they know his concertina
Poppa Piccolino, Poppa Piccolino
He plays so prettily to every signorina
Poppa Piccolino from sunny Italy

Oh listen to the music I hear
Oh. Poppa Piccolino is near
To win a smile or maybe a tear
Before travelling on

A vagabond who wanders along
A millionaire, but only in song
As though the world
Might really belong to him

This fellow plays a melody so mellow
That everyone keeps shouting "Bello, Bello"

All over Italy they know his concertina
Poppa Piccolino, Poppa Piccolino
He plays so prettily to every signorina
Poppa Piccolino from sunny Italy

No matter what the calendars show
It can't be spring, and I ought to know
Until I hear him singing "'allo, 'allo I'm here again"