Sun And Fun - Song Of A Night-Club Proprietress - Cleo Laine

I walked into the nightclub in the morning

There was Kummel on the handle of the door

The ashtrays were unemptied

The cleaning unattempted

And a squashed tomato sandwich on the floor

I pulled aside the thick magenta curtains

So Regency, so Regency, my dear

And a host of little spiders

Ran a race across the ciders

To a box of baby 'pollies by the beer

Oh sun upon the summergoing bypass

Where ev’rything is speeding to the sea

And wonder beyond wonder

That here where lorries thunder

The sun should ever percolate to me

When Boris used to call in his Sedanca

When Teddy took me down to his estate

When my nose excited passions

And my clothes were in the fashion

When my beaux were never cross if I was late

There was sun enough for lazing upon beaches

There was fun enough for far into the night;

But I’m dying now and done for

What on earth was all the fun for?

I am ill and old and terrified and tight