Popsy was a singer in a little revue
Sang the sort of ditties that the people all knew
Every night they used to turn the limelight strong
On someone’s face as she sang her song.
Popsy loved her job but every once in a while
She thought it would be such bliss
If the limelight would find
A man both good and kind
And he’d murmur something like this:
Sing to me, my little Popsy Wopsy
Turn the limelight right on me
When on that stage you come
My little heart beats
Just like a drum.
I shall dream about you all night tonight
You’re the sweetest girl I’ve seen.
I would kiss you my Popsy
But there’s one thing stops me
Those footlights in between.
Popsy fixed her eye upon an old boy one night
Sitting in the stalls with not a lady in sight
When she sang her loving song he looked entranced
She knew it wasn’t the way she danced.
That same evening to the stage door he sent a note
Which read: Oh Popsy my pet,
Though I’m seventy one
We could have lots of fun.
There’s life in the old mongrel yet!
Popsy still sings ditties on that stage every night
Though she may not be a star she’s doing all right
And when Johnnies think that they are sure to score
And wait for her at the backstage door
She appears in furs to keep her safe from the cold
And if some masher should shout:
I’ve some champagne on ice,
She’ll say Well, ain’t that nice
But daddy won’t let me go out!