Mrs. Murphy Hello Mrs Murphy, That's a lovely dress you're wearing, is it new? Why, thank you Mr Wilson But I've had that same old dress about a year or two Upstairs in bed, the tall boy stretched just like a cat Put his hands behind his head and lay there thinking of a dream that he had I hear that the Johnsons had a baby, Mrs Murphy Is that true Why yes, but it's rumoured that the little tot's real daddy Lives in twenty-two In twenty-two, the boy lay whistling out of tune fighting on the seas Dreaming of a thousand things he'd like to be Poor Mr Johnson Being married to a wife who should be caged It's the child who will suffer And to think that young man is less than half her age Upstairs he sits, he hears a knock, and nothing more Come on in, you're late Well, don't just stand there Mrs. Johnson close the door by: José Duarte