My Harrogate Aunt

This is a day, as you may say,
When everybody is bright and gay,
People need not be old unless they wish;
My Harrogate Aunt's a case in point,
She, once, was spavined in every joint,
But now she's changed, oh what a kettle of fish.
I suppose it must be the Harrogate air,
Or perhaps it's the waters, I don't care –

Chorus.

Auntie's gone in for Jazz,
She has, she has,
She's going to get off this year,
And she is such a dear.
To see her stepping around a dance room's good as any play,
She came to Harrogate two years back, no doubt she's come to stay
She said that the place would make her young,
And so, by Gum, it has,
The dancing at Harrogate's booming now
Since Auntie went in for Jazz.

Once on a time her dress was prime,
Like some old dame in a pantomime,
Now–a–days Auntie simply takes the bun,
What there is of her dress is great,
It leaves off early and starts quite late,
She's much admired by fellows, every one;
There's not a doubt she's having her fling,
She's showing her garters, saucy thing.

Chorus.

She's shingled her hair, I do declare,
Her evening dresses are cut to there,
She's got back into her teens to all intents,
Every evening she starts to roam,
We don't know when to expect her home,
And the very latest dance rooms she frequents;
The Harrogate air is simply grand,
It's better than Kruschen or Monkey Gland.

Chorus.