 | The Five Notions |  |
19
M. C.
(THE HIGHER MUSICAL CRITICS)
I wish my mother could see me now, with a flat hat under my arm,
And a bit of silk tucked up my cuff to wipe my brow when it's warm,
Sitting in Covent Garden foyer, in a collar that strangles me:
I used to be a reporter once,
Leicester, Nottingham, Wigan once,
Newcastle, Thames Embankment once,
But now I am M.C.
And a bit of silk tucked up my cuff to wipe my brow when it's warm,
Sitting in Covent Garden foyer, in a collar that strangles me:
I used to be a reporter once,
Leicester, Nottingham, Wigan once,
Newcastle, Thames Embankment once,
But now I am M.C.
That is what we are known as—we are the crowd that bawls
“What d'ye think of it Muggins” out of the “A” row of stalls.
We are the chaps that always say “staff,” when we're buying the Scotch-whiskee
We are the chronic Johnnies! Roll up the—M.C.!
“What d'ye think of it Muggins” out of the “A” row of stalls.
20
We are the chronic Johnnies! Roll up the—M.C.!
My 'ands are spotty with ink-stains, my shirt is a dirty blue,
My swallowtails have gone shiney, but that don't matter to you.
And never mind which dam column I write, nor what my paper may be,
I wrote on Art in the Dishcloth once,
I wrote the fashions in Petticoats once,
I used to be on the Cheesemonger once,
But now I am M.C.
My swallowtails have gone shiney, but that don't matter to you.
And never mind which dam column I write, nor what my paper may be,
I wrote on Art in the Dishcloth once,
I wrote the fashions in Petticoats once,
I used to be on the Cheesemonger once,
But now I am M.C.
That is what we are known as—we are the 'oly push
That likes to be caught on the Opera stairs and crushed in the Opera crush,
And brings its Ma to an off-night show, looking sadly decolletee,
We are the regular Johnnies—We are the—M.C.
That likes to be caught on the Opera stairs and crushed in the Opera crush,
And brings its Ma to an off-night show, looking sadly decolletee,
We are the regular Johnnies—We are the—M.C.
21
And when the Opera “closes its doors,” and the Concerts start, you know,
Around the town with our wife, Mrs. Brown, we giggle and babble and blow,
And if there's any Strauss to the fore, we're glad as glad can be,
We used to butter De Lara once,
We all went mad on De Lara once
(Once, my ducky, an' only once)
Since we have been M.C.
Around the town with our wife, Mrs. Brown, we giggle and babble and blow,
And if there's any Strauss to the fore, we're glad as glad can be,
We used to butter De Lara once,
We all went mad on De Lara once
(Once, my ducky, an' only once)
Since we have been M.C.
That is what we are known as—we are the beggars that got
Three hours “to learn orchestration” an' six days to master the lot—
Gounod, Berlioz, Verdi, Wagner, and Tschaikowskee
We are the musical Johnnies! We are the—M.C.
Three hours “to learn orchestration” an' six days to master the lot—
Gounod, Berlioz, Verdi, Wagner, and Tschaikowskee
We are the musical Johnnies! We are the—M.C.
I wish my mother could see me now, she bein' a woman o' sense,
When I ride like a gentleman up to Queen's 'All and back at the office expense.
I really can't understand what I've done that such, luck should happen to me,
I used to think it ridiculous once,
I wouldn't ha' thought it possible once,
A penny 'bus was my mark once,
But now I am M.C.
When I ride like a gentleman up to Queen's 'All and back at the office expense.
22
I used to think it ridiculous once,
I wouldn't ha' thought it possible once,
A penny 'bus was my mark once,
But now I am M.C.
That is what we are known as—we are the Johnnies you view
Standing up in the alleys when there's anything on that's new,
Whisperin 'an' grinnin' together, settlin' things to a “t,”
“I think you are right old chappie, we'll both say the same”—M.C!
Standing up in the alleys when there's anything on that's new,
Whisperin 'an' grinnin' together, settlin' things to a “t,”
“I think you are right old chappie, we'll both say the same”—M.C!
I wish myself could talk to myself as I left him two seasons ago,
I could tell 'im a lot that would 'elp 'im a lot in matters he ought to know.
To think of the ignorant, blushful kid yours truly used to be!—
Why, I tried to learn the piano once!
I got as far as “The Keel Row” once!
In Farmer's excellent “tutor” once!
And now I am M.C.!
I could tell 'im a lot that would 'elp 'im a lot in matters he ought to know.
To think of the ignorant, blushful kid yours truly used to be!—
23
I got as far as “The Keel Row” once!
In Farmer's excellent “tutor” once!
And now I am M.C.!
That is what we are known as—we are the boys that have been
Nearly a year at the musical graft, smelt it, an' felt it, an' seen,
We are the 'igher critics, and we can't tell A from G,
My Gawd! go and read in the papers the stuff that we sign M.C.!
Nearly a year at the musical graft, smelt it, an' felt it, an' seen,
We are the 'igher critics, and we can't tell A from G,
My Gawd! go and read in the papers the stuff that we sign M.C.!
Night—night, Johnnies! Sorry you 'ave to go!
Mop up the drink in your glasses, let your fountain-pens flow,
Turn out the lights on the front boys, send up your pars to Room B,
Let's 'ave a drink at the Savage. Here's to the rorty M.C.!
Mop up the drink in your glasses, let your fountain-pens flow,
Turn out the lights on the front boys, send up your pars to Room B,
Let's 'ave a drink at the Savage. Here's to the rorty M.C.!
| The Five Notions | |