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British Musical Theatre   New Aladdin

No. 18 - Song - Genie and Chorus - "The No-Hat Brigade."
Lyrics by Geroge Grossmith, Junr.

MIDI File

Genie: If you ever go down to a popular town
On the coast, when the summer is hot,
You'll see folks overdress'd,
And it must be confess'd
You will also see some who are not.
These wear open-work clothes,
And you rightly suppose
That the Hygienic throng you're among,
For they never wear hats,
And they'll tell you that that's
The right way to keep lovely and young.
They're the gay no-hat brigade
On their afternoon parade,
And they look rather queer
When they walk on the pier
Or the Eastern Esplanade.
Their mammas are getting vexed,
Their papas are quite perplex'd,
For they only wear Jaeger,
Or something still vaguer,
Oh! what will they leave off next!
Chorus: They're the gay no-hat brigade
On their afternoon parade,
They look rather queer
When they walk on the pier
Or the Eastern Esplanade.
Their mammas are getting vexed,
Their papas are quite perplex'd,
For they only wear Jaeger,
Or something still vaguer,
Oh! what will they leave off next!
   
Genie: There's a dear little maid
Who has joined the brigade,
She declares that her blouse is a dream,
Tho' I can't, I'm afraid,
Quite explain how it's made,
You can usually see thro' the scheme;
She will sternly refuse
To wear stockings or shoes,
And I trust I am not indiscreet
If I bet six to four,
In a year or two more
That La Milo will take a back seat.
They're the gay no-hat brigade
On their afternoon parade,
Oh! the sun's burnt her toes
And the skin off the nose,
Of the fair Hygienic maid.
Her mamma is getting vexed,
Her papa is quite perplex'd,
With her peek-a-boo frocking
And absence of stocking,
Oh! what will she leave off next!
Chorus: They're the gay no-hat brigade
On their afternoon parade,
Oh! the sun's burnt her toes
And the skin off the nose,
Of the fair Hygienic maid.
Her mamma is getting vexed,
Her papa is quite perplex'd,
With her peek-a-boo frocking
And absence of stocking,
Oh! what will she leave off next!
   
Genie: Oh! you won't want the cure
Down at Carlsbad, I'm sure,
If you dine with this gallant brigade.
For they lunch on sultanas,
Brown bread and bananas,
Wash'd down with home-made lemonade;
Tho' the bloods of the ilk
Take a soda and milk,
When sometimes they're inclin'd to be gay,
And with satisfied smiles
They declare Eustace Miles
Feeds them nobly on fourpence a day.
They're the gay no-hat brigade
On their mid-day meal parade,
And the queen of the bunch
At the fourpenny lunch
Is the fair Hygienic maid.
Her mamma was really vexed,
Her papa was most perplex'd
When he heard that his daughter
Left off drinking water,
Oh! what will she leave off next!
Chorus: They're the gay no-hat brigade
On their mid-day meal parade,
And the queen of the bunch
At the fourpenny lunch
Is the fair Hygienic maid.
Her mamma was really vexed,
Her papa was most perplex'd
When he heard that his daughter
Left off drinking water,
Oh! what will she leave off next!

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