lirik lagu madeira, m’dear – the limeliters
she was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice
she was fair, she was sweet, seventeen
he was old, he was vile, and no stranger to vice
he was base, he was bad, he was mean
he had slyly inveigled her up to his flat
to view his collection of stamps
and he said as he hastened to put out the cat
the wine, his cigar and the lamps:
have some madeira, m’dear
you really have nothing to fear
i’m not trying to tempt you
that wouldn’t be right
you shouldn’t drink spirits at this time of night
have some madeira, m’dear
it’s really much nicer than beer
i don’t care for sherry, one cannot drink stout
and port is a wine i can well do without…
it’s simply a case of chacun a son gout
have some madeira, m’dear
unaware of the wiles of the snake-in-the-gr-ss
and the fate of the maiden who topes
she lowered her standards by raising her gl-ss
her courage, her eyes…and his hopes
she sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did!
he promptly refilled it again
and he said as he secretly carved one more notch
on the b-tt of his gold-headed cane:
have some madeira, m’dear
i’ve got a small cask of it here
and once it’s been opened, you know it won’t keep
do finish it up. it will help you to sleep
have some madeira, m’dear
it’s really an excellent year
now if it were gin, you’d be wrong to say yes
the evil gin does would be hard to -ssess…
besides it’s inclined to affect the prowess
have some madeira, m’dear
then there flashed through her mind what her mother had said
with her antepenultimate breath
“oh my child, should you look on the wine that is red
be prepared for a fate worse than death!”
she let go her gl-ss with a shrill little cry
crash! tinkle! it fell to the floor;
when he asked, “what in heaven?” she made no reply
up her mind, and a dash for the door
have some madeira, m’dear
rang out down the hall loud and clear
with a tremulous cry that was filled with despair
as she fought to take breath in the cool midnight air
have some madeira, m’dear
the words seemed to ring in her ear
until the next morning, she woke in her bed
with a smile on her lips and an ache in her head…
and a beard on her earlobe that tickled and said:
have some madeira, m’dear!
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