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British Musical Theatre   The Messenger Boy

No. 8 - Duet - Rosa and Tommy

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Tommy: I'm a little messenger,
Summoned by a call;
I should very much prefer
To be big and tall.
I would be a bobby then,
Very great and grand,
Stopping all the traffic when
I held up my hand!
Rosa: I would be a nursemaid neat,
Trying hard to cross the street!
   
Rosa: Oh, policeman, hold me tight!
Tommy: All right, miss!
Rosa: Hansoms give me such a fright!
Tommy: All right, miss!
Rosa: Come and see us Saturday,
When the Missis is away!
Rosa: I'm a little lady's maid
Always on the go,
For my lady wants my aid
Ev'ry hour or so!
But I dearly wish I were
Just a sailor lad,
Furling up the spinnaker
On an Iron-clad!
Tommy: I would be the bos'n stout,
And I'd order you about!
   
Tommy: Reef your fo'c'stle mizenhead!
Rosa: Aye, aye, sir!
Tommy: Haul your wind and heave the lead!
Rosa: Aye, aye, sir!
Both: Douse your jib when you've a chance,
Pipe all hands for grog and dance!
   
Rosa: If I could be born a boy
That would not be bad,
For I would enlist with joy
As a soldier lad!
I would wear a khaki kit,
Paint my buttons brown;
None could see me, not a bit,
Till I shot them down!
Tommy: I'd be sergeant to you still,
And I'd put you through your drill.
   
Tommy: 'Tention, number from the right!
Rosa: One, two, three!
Tommy: Eyes right! March! You are a sight!
Rosa: One, two, three!
Both: Shoulder arms! fix magazine!
Forward! Soldiers of the Queen!

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