There was chatter round the boardinghouse for word had got around
That a classy kind of filly was in town
And we hung on every tidbit of gossip to be found
About Miss Milly (Wilhelmina) Brown.
If tales were true that we were told, then Garbo, Lake, Bacall
Were impostors undeserving of their fame.
This Mighty Milly soon would ride all roughshod o'er them all,
Show Hollywood just how to play the game.
Now some folk think a boardinghouse has a kind of clientele
That's best described as doddery old geezers.
It's fair to say that some are old or even quite unwell.
They are dowagers or whiskery old wheezers
But three of us were younger, we were called the Likely Lads;
We livened up the place there was no doubt.
We took no notice of their scowls, those Grannies and Grandads
Who tried to shush us when we gave a shout.
There was Harrison, a lumpish lad, with hands as big as hocks
And strong as Charlie Atlas in his prime,
He was charming, he was handsome, he had flowing golden locks
And he'd kissed a good few lassies in his time.
Then Clancy, known as Fancy, was a proper ladies' man,
The bargirls in the pub all fought to serve him.
He tipped his hat to mothers, then he called their daughters Nan.
When he set his sights on one, then few could swerve him.
And one was there a stripling with a squiffy little beard;
He was slight and he was weedy. He wore specs!
Though he had a bright demeanour and a look that quite endeared,
He was far from favourite with the fairer sex.
Now I have to make confession that the weedy one was me,
Though I'll add a talent hitherto unknown;
My brain was full of honeyed words, my tongue could set them free,
If once I got a pretty girl alone.
The game was on, the Likely Lads held conference on the spot.
Miss Milly Brown a prize esteemed as major,
But to sweeten up the victory, add honey to the pot,
The three of us determined on a wager.
The stakes were rich, the princely sum of thirty pounds from each,
The winner he who first could gain a kiss.
A fortune to the one who won the favour of The Peach -
The maiden and the money - certain bliss!
To reconnoitre would be wise - we found out where she worked -
The local butcher's place Big Dan Molloys.
We hung outside and waited, you could even say we lurked
Till Fancy shouted, "There she goes, my boys!"
She was sturdy more than dainty, she was muscled more than lean,
Her tousled locks were redder than a fever.
A more outstanding Amazon no man had ever seen
And in her bloodstained hand she twirled a cleaver.
Now Harry was the boldest so he strode across the street
And in his hand he held a bright red rose.
He bowled up to the counter and he purred, "For you, my sweet."
She hit him with a right that broke his nose.
No rose is redder than the blood that splattered on his shirt.
He stumbled back to us with battered pride.
We rounded up our comrade and we bandaged up his hurt
And at that moment Clancy left our side.
We watched him saunter 'cross the road, we watched him swing the door.
I'm sure the words he uttered there were sweet,
But really to observers it came as no surprise
When Fancy Clancy flew into the street.
It seemed that our informants had been frugal with the truth
When they'd told us of the feats of Milly Brown.
For now we found this paragon of virtue, in her youth
Had really been a boxer of renown.
She hailed from Cootabangla, took all comers in her stride,
She walloped Whacker Wilson through the ropes.
She laid out Mad Dog Morgan and she dusted off his hide
And now it seemed she took all men for dopes.
When I rose to take my turn at love they stared at me in awe,
It well might make the bravest hold their breath.
There was blood upon the pavement and poor Clancy's broken jaw;
I guess they thought I headed to my death.
Now the townfolk had assembled to observe the latest act
Of the drama that unfolded there that day.
Some were cheering, some were weeping. Oh, the galleries were packed
As I boldly stepped into the bloodied fray.
So I pushed the door wide open, I approached Miss Milly Brown,
It's fair to say my heart was turning flips.
Then she reached out to embrace me, though she had to stoop right down
And she kissed me, yes she kissed me on the lips.
Like Caesar or Napoleon, I left the shop that day,
Adoring crowds applauded as I did.
With Lily Brown beside me I traversed the crowded way
And collected from my friends the ninety quid.
For I had a certain secret that now can be revealed,
I was Cootabangla born and loved that town.
It was there I made a living as a gambler, wheeled and dealed,
With my partner and my lover, Milly Brown.
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