With Her Head Tucked Underneath Her Arm

In the tower of London, large as life, the ghost of Anne Bolyn walks they
declare
Poor Anne Bolyn was once King Henry’s wife until he made the headsman bob her
hair
Ah, yes, he did her wrong long years ago and she comes up at night to tell him
so
With her head tucked underneath her arm she walks the bloody tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm at the midnight hour
She comes to haunt King Henry. She means giving him what for. Gadzooks,
she’s going to tell him off. She’s feeling very sore
And just in case the headsman wants to give her an encore, she’s has her head
tucked underneath her arm
With her head tucked underneath her arm she walks the bloody tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm at the midnight hour
The sentries think that it’s a football that she carries in and when they had a
few they shout, «Is Army going to win?»
They that it’s Red Grange instead of poor old Ann Bolyn with her head tucked
underneath her arm
Sometimes gay King Henry gives a spread for all his pals and gals and ghostly
crew
The headsman craves the joint and cuts the bread then in comes Anne Bolyn to
queer the do
She holds her head up with a wild war whoop and Henry cries, «Don't drop it in
the soup!»
With her head tucked underneath her arm she walks the bloody tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm at the midnight hour
One night she caught King Henry, he was in the canteen bar. Said he, «Are you Jane Seymour, Anne Bolyn, or Katherine Parr?
How the sweet san perryann do I know who you are with your head tucked
underneath your arm?»