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Another one of Alfies masterpieces this. In the back room of the Hunters Lodge Inn as the evening wore on, so the songs would get more and more vulgar. Ben Dors, the landlord in those days (and cousin of Diana), would appear to collect glasses and would rebuke us with "'yer, watch they words". After Alfie wrote this song, each time Ben entered the room, the singing would stop and this one would start, much to Bens amusement. His comment on the first rendition was "..beats me 'ow you lads think on 'um".
The first verse has a different melody to the rest and is only sung once. The rest of the verses are sung using the melody from bar 33.
If you are interested in learning or would like to contribute to a collection of rude songs that I have begun then this link will take your there.
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When singing crude songs, we commit social wrongs,
By indulging in bawdy hilarity,
So lets make every ditty, polite, pure and pretty,
By avoiding they words of vulgarity,
We can make all our caving songs stately and gracious,
Instead of coarse, vulgar, obscene and salacious,
And we'll sing ourselves hoarse, while avoiding of course,
They words, they 'orrible words.
When we sing of the ladies, we'll never afront,
The tenderest maiden by being too blunt,
For suitable words we will steadfastly hunt,
And avoid using vulgar expressions like....
CHORUS:
Words, they words, they 'orrible words, they words, they 'orrible words.
Our rude Saxon forebears, in rude Saxon halls,
Wrote rude Saxon words on their rude Saxon walls,
But we are disgusted, the prospect appals,
And we think of these things as a right load of....
CHORUS:
Words, they words, they 'orrible words, they words, they 'orrible words.
Our delicate natures would take a right knock,
As round the piano we daintily flock,
If some vulgar fellow proceeded to shock,
Us with songs about showing the jury his....
CHORUS:
Words, they words, they 'orrible words, they words, they 'orrible words.
For songs such as that really shake us to bits,
We'll never let crudity sully our wits,
The coarsest amongst us quite freely admits,
That songs that are crude really get on our....
CHORUS:
Words, they words, they 'orrible words, they words, they 'orrible words.
So let us remember our old Sunday School,
And make polite words our inviolate rule,
A man looks a stupid and ignorant fool,
Singing long bawdy ballads the length of his....
CHORUS:
Words, they words, they 'orrible words, they words, they 'orrible words.
And if it should come, as it may do, to pass,
That sing-songs become a ridiculous farce,
Then let every caving lad raise up his glass,
And bring back our old songs like A stands for....
CHORUS:
Words, they words, they 'orrible words, they words, they 'orrible words.
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