I had a boyfriend once from Dungeness
He always dressed in trousers he hand presssed
So when he arrived in dark blue jeans
It made my parents shout and scream
So his suit he did not press,I must confess.
However we lived very well in sin
All rude remarks were tossed into the bin
But after ninety seven years
He told me he was tired of stares
So then we married ; now we live on gin.
I cook a meal for Friday night at eight
For we are Jews by birth and claim our rights
We spend the Sabbath eating cake
But of course we put on weight
But love to hug and kiss by candlelight.
Is kissing work,we ponder as we sip
The dew from off the other’s gorgeous lip
There’s no way we can be quite sure
But now our kisses have got fewer
As I’m too old to love more than a bit.
In Dungeness there are not many Jews
And I am glad in case one lights my fuse
We scramble on the rocky shore
My husband’s brand new trousers tore
They were from Cohen’s and Leonard sent two more
How my heart sings 