(Tune: St James's Infirmary)
Let me tell you a little story
About Miss Edith Gee;
She lived in Clevedon Terrace
At Number 83.
She'd a slight squint in her left eye,
Her lips they were thin and small,
She had narrow sloping shoulders
And she had no bust at all.
She'd a velvet hat with trimmings,
And a dark grey serge costume,
She lived in Clevedon Terrace
In a small bed-sitting room.
She'd a purple mac for wet days,
A green umbrella too to take,
She'd a bicycle with shopping basket
And a harsh back-pedal brake.
The Church of Saint Aloysius
Was not so very far;
She did a lot of knitting,
Knitting for that Church Bazaar.
Let me tell you a little story
About Miss Edith Gee;
She lived in Clevedon Terrace
At Number 83.
She'd a slight squint in her left eye,
Her lips they were thin and small,
She had narrow sloping shoulders
And she had no bust at all.
She'd a velvet hat with trimmings,
And a dark grey serge costume,
She lived in Clevedon Terrace
In a small bed-sitting room.
She'd a purple mac for wet days,
A green umbrella too to take,
She'd a bicycle with shopping basket
And a harsh back-pedal brake.
The Church of Saint Aloysius
Was not so very far;
She did a lot of knitting,
Knitting for that Church Bazaar.
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