Mrs. Murphy
G7
Hello Mrs Murphy,
Bb G7
That's a lovely dress you're wearing, is it new?
Why, thank you Mr Wilson
Bb G7
But I've had that same old dress about a year or two
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Upstairs in bed, the tall boy stretched just like a cat
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Put his hands behind his head and lay there thinking of a dream that he had
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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
jtduarte1@gmail.com
