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

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

Upstairs he sits, he hears a knock, and nothing more 
Come on in, you're late Well, don't just stand there Mrs. Johnson close the door 






by: José Duarte
jtduarte1@gmail.com