# The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke/II. The Intro

* The Intro
* R name's Doreen… Well, spare me bloomin' days!
* You could 'a' knocked me down wiv 'arf a brick!
* Yes, me, that kids me self I know their ways,
* An' 'as a name fer smoogin' in our click!
* I jist lines up an' tips the saucy wink.
* But strike! The way she piled on dawg! Yeh'd think
* A bloke wus givin' back-chat to the Queen….
* 'Er name's Doreen.
* I seen 'er in the markit first uv all,
* Inspectin' brums at Steeny Isaacs' stall.
* I backs me barrer in—the same ole way—
* An' sez, "Wot O! It's been a bonzer day.
* 'Ow is it fer a walk?"… Oh, 'oly wars!
* The sort o' look she gimme! Jest becors
* I tried to chat 'er, like yeh'd make a start
* Wiv any tart.
* ​An' I kin take me oaf I wus perlite,
* An' never said no word that wasn't right,
* An' never tried to maul 'er, or to do
* A thing yeh might call crook. To tell yeh true,
* I didn't seem to 'ave the nerve—wiv 'er.
* I felt as if I couldn't go that fur,
* An' start to sling off chiack like I used…
* Not intrajuiced!
* Nex' time I sighted 'er in Little Bourke,
* Where she wus in a job. I found 'er lurk
* Wus pastin' labels in a pickle joint,
* A game that—any'ow, that ain't the point,
* Once more I tried to chat 'er in the street,
* But, bli'me! Did she turn me down a treat!
* The way she tossed 'er 'ead an' swished 'er skirt!
* Oh, it wus dirt!
* A squarer tom, I swear, I never seen,
* In all me natchril, than this 'ere Doreen.
* It wer'n't no guyver neither; fer I knoo
* That any other bloke 'ad Buckley's 'oo
* Tried fer to pick 'er up. Yes, she wus square.
* She jist sailed by an' lef me standin' there
* Like any mug. Thinks I, "I'm out o' luck,"
* An' done a duck.
* ​Well, I dunno. It's that way wiv a bloke.
* If she'd 'a' breasted up to me an' spoke,
* I'd thort 'er jist a common bit o' fluff,
* An' then fergot about 'er, like enough.
* It's jist like this. The tarts that's 'ard ter get
* Makes you all 'ot to chase 'em, an' to let
* The cove called Cupid git an' 'ammer-lock;
* An' lose yer block.
* I know a bloke 'oo knows a bloke 'oo toils
* In that same pickle found-ery. ('E boils
* The cabbitch storks or somethink.) Anyway,
* I gives me pal the orfis fer to say
* 'E 'as a sister in the trade 'oo's been
* Out uv a job, an' wants to meet Doreen;
* Then we kin get an intro, if we've luck.
* 'E sez, "Ribuck."
* O' course we worked the oricle; you bet!
* But, 'Struth, I ain't recovered frum it yet!
* 'Twas on a Saturd'y, in Colluns Street,
* An'—quite by accident, o' course—we meet.
* Me pal 'e trots 'er up an' does the toff—
* 'E allus wus a bloke fer showin' off.
* "This 'ere's Doreen," 'e sez. "This 'ere's the Kid."
* I dips me lid.
* ​"This 'ere's Doreen," 'e sez. I sez "Good day."
* An', bli'me, I 'ad nothin' more ter say!
* I couldn't speak a word, or meet 'er eye.
* Clean done me block! I never bin so shy,
* Not since I wus a tiny little cub,
* An' run the rabbit to the corner pub—
* Wot time the Summer days wus dry an' 'ot—
* Fer my ole pot.
* Me! that 'as barracked tarts, an' torked an' larft,
* An' chucked orf at 'em like a phonergraft!
* Gawstruth! I seemed to lose me pow'r o' speech.
* But, 'er! Oh, strike me pink! She is a peach!
* The sweetest in the barrer! Spare me days,
* I carn't describe that cliner's winnin' ways.
* The way she torks! 'Er lips! 'Er eyes! 'Er hair!…
* Oh, gimme air!
* I dunno 'ow I done it in the end.
* I reckerlect I arst to be 'er friend;
* An' tried to play at 'andies in the park,
* A thing she wouldn't sight. Aw, it's a nark!
* I gotter swear when I think wot a mug
* I must 'a' seemed to 'er. But still I 'ug
* That promise that she give me fer the beach.
* The bonzer peach!
* ​Now, as the poit sez, the days drag by
* On ledding feet. I wish't they'd do a guy.
* I dunno 'ow I 'ad the nerve ter speak,
* An' make that meet wiv 'er fer Sund'y week!
* But strike! It's funny wot a bloke 'll do
* When 'e's all out…. She's gorn, when I come-to.
* I'm yappin' to me cobber uv me mash….
* I've done me dash!
* 'Er name's Doreen.… An' me—that thort I knoo
* The ways uv tarts, an' all that smoogin' game!
* An' so I ort; fer ain't I known a few?
* Yet some'ow… I dunno. It ain't the same.
* I carn't tell wot it is; but, all I know,
* I've dropped me bundle—an' I'm glad it's so.
* Fer when I come ter think uv wot I been….
* 'Er name's Doreen.