Mrs Murphy

G7
Hello Mrs Murphy,
That's a lovely dress you're 
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wearing, is it new?
Why, thank you Mr Wilson
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But I've had that same old dress 
         G7
about a year or two

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Upstairs in bed, the tall boy 
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stretched just like a cat
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Put his hands behind his head and 
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lay there thinking of a dream that
       G7
 he had

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