“Oh, what a night!”

There’s, a, seagull on me head,

and a pasty in me bed,

and I can’t remember what I did,

or said, last night –

and nothing seems to be, quite right.

There’s an anchor on the wall,

and a lobster in the hall,

and I can’t remember where I was,

or who with, last night –

and nothing seems to be, quite right.

I’ve a lifeboat in me drive,

and me oilskins number five,

and I can’t remember how I got them;

it must have been a night, last night –

and nothing seems to be, quite right.

The boat upon my lawn,

seems lonely and forlorn,

and I can’t remember if it’s mine,

it seems to have a Falmouth number

It must have been such a night, last night –

and nothing seems to be,

in any way,

quite right.