When the Wednesday night rehearsals are a memory,

And the Wraggle Taggle Gypsies all have fled.

Bobby Shaftoe’s gone a-Dancing to his Daddy,

And the Farmer’s Boy is tucked up in his bed.

    The Chattanooga Choo Choo’s in its siding,

    The Healing River’s now a Gentle Stream.

    We are pleased the Wind has finally Blown Southerly,

    Twenty years has passed so quickly like a dream.

 

CHORUSOh, there’s such a lot of singing to be done to be done.

     A conductor’s lot is not a happy one.

 

When the Teddy Bears have eaten all the Picnic,

And Saint Peter’s gone and finished ringing bells.

When Jack Horner’s got engaged to Polly Flinders,

And old Vilia’s put away her book of spells.

    When we’ve gone and picked the final Bale of Cotton,

    And fair Phyllis has gone off to Yarmouth Fair.

    P’raps one day we’ll lift our heads out of our copies,

    We’ll remember all those times you’ve had to glare.