Rollo the Ravaging Roman

(Original air by R.L. Hutchens.)

She was a sweet little woiking goil, she was,
Who lived in a house by the Tiber;
She was so innocent, pretty, and pure, she was,
I'm quite at a loss to describe her.
But she met, at the gladiatorial show,
A handsome young Roman - and how could she know.

Chorus:
He was a villain, yes, sir, a bounder, a cad,
He couldn't recall all the wives that he'd had,
And dozens of kiddies all called him their Dad
He was Rollo, the Ravaging Roman.

He took this sweet little woiking goil, he did,
Home when the combat was over.
He told her he lerved her - she said, "Get away!"
But she fell for the wicked young rover.
He swore that he'd die if they ever should part
For years he had known this effusion by hear!

He took this sweet little woiking goil, he did,
To come round one night to his villa;
He kissed and caressed her, and whispered his lerv,
And with liquor proceeded to fill her,
She fainted at last, overcome by the brew,
But when he retired, the young lady came too!

He told this sweet little woiking goil, he did,
To go to the wars he must leave her;
But instead he repaired to a mistress in France,
And thence to a wife in Geneva!
She waited for years, in her sorrow and shime,
With her poor little baby what hadn't a nime!

They took this sweet little woiking goil, they did,
And buried her close by the Tiber,
In her coffin she looked to appealing and pure,
I'm quite at a loss to describe her!
She rested in peace - but the baby she had
Turned out in the end even worse than his Dad!

"Olympian Nights" 1938.