Fanlight Fanny

They don’t make them like this any more: just as well, I hear you say.

http://tinyurl.com/q7eqfma

Up the west end, that’s the best end
where the night-clubs thrive,
Down into a dive you go.
There’s a jazz queen, she’s a has-been,
has been Lord knows what!
Every night she’s there on show.

She dances underneath a magic spell,
she’s full of charm and beer
and gin and scotch as well.

She’s sixty-six but looks sixteen,
her friends don’t know her now
her face is clean.
Fanlight Fanny, the frowsy night-club queen.

See her glide around the floor,
then glide around into the pub next door.
Fanlight Fanny, the frowsy night-club queen.

She looks well in the lime,
a queen all the time,
you get your money’s worth.
By day you’d say,
it’s her second time on earth.

She waltzes in the West-End shops
then waltzes out between two cops.
Fanlight Fanny, the frowsy night-club queen.

She’s a peach,
but understand she’s called a peach
because she’s always canned.
Fanlight Fanny, the frowsy night-club queen.

When she’s dressed she’s like Mae West,
she wears two saucepan lids upon her chest.
Fanlight Fanny, the frowsy night-club queen.

She looks well in the lime,
a queen all the time,
you get your money’s worth.
By day  you’d say,
it’s her second time on earth.
Every morn at the break of day,
they call for the empties and they cart away,
Fanlight Fanny, the frowsy night-club queen.

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