Ala bam a
She used to sing hymns in the old village choir,
She taught at the Sunday school class,
At playing the organ she never would tire,
Those days are all now long passed.
In church at the organ she'd practice each day,
While the minister pumped up and down.
His wife caught him pumping the organ one day,
And that's why Aunt Sara left town.
With presents he tempted and lured her to sin,
Her innocent virtue to smirch,
But her honor was strong and she never gave in,
Till he gave her the deed to the church.
We never mention Aunt Sara;
Her picture is turned to the wall,
Though she lives on the French Riviera
Mother says she is dead to us all.
They said that she'd toil by night and by day
She'd have to scrub floors for her bread,
But inside of a week she discovered a way,
To earn her board by lying in bed.
They told her the wages of sinners was death,
To this my aunt Sara just said;
That she'd just as soon die with champagne on her breath,
And pink satin sheets on her bed.
They said no one cared if she'd ever come back,
When she left for her fortune to seek,
But the boys in the firehouse painted it black,
And the ball team was mourning that week.
They said that no man would make her his bride,
They prophesied children of shame,
But she's married three earls and a baron besides,
And she hasn't a child to her name.
They said that Hellfire would punish her sin,
She'd burn for her much evil way,
But just at the moment she's toasting her skin,
On the beaches of Montego Bay.
The best things in life always go to the meek,
The Sunday school lessons all teach,
But I wonder when I see her gazebo of teak,
At her eighty room shack on the beach.
My poor mother's life has been quiet and meek,
She drives in a second-hand Ford,
Aunt Sara received for her birthday last week,
A Rolls-Royce, a Stutz and a Cord.
My mother does all of her housework alone,
She has to scrub clothes for her board
It strikes me that virtue's not only it's own,
But also it's only reward.
So we never mention Aunt Sara,
But I think that when I grow up tall,
I shall live on the French Riviera,
And let mother turn me to the wall.
My Uncle used to sing this all the time....