A tailor’s song

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November 1, 2014 by Ville Raivio

Bill Smith was a tailor, a ‘prentice he’d been

Products from Pukimo Raivio

Kiton, grey sports jacket, size 50EU
Ralph Lauren, Black Label suit, size 52EU

whose work was as perfect as ever was seen

he knew how to build up a front and to press

a frock coat, a morning coat, lounge, or a dress

for full forty years at the trade he had worked

and during that period no job he had shirked

but one fact his conscience continually mocked

he’d not made a job yet that couldn’t be cocked!

chorus: fol-de-rol-liddle-lol; fol-de-rol-lay; more collar-ology every day!

said Smith: “Now this frock coat I’m starting to make

will be absolutely perfection I’ll stake;

every point will be studied, the collar fit clean,

the edges I’ll prick with a fifteen between.”

the fronts then he molded artistic and true

he pinked it so much that his shopmates turned blue

a penny an hour were his earnings if clocked

on this wonderful garment that couldn’t be cocked.

chorus: fol-de-rol-liddle-lol; fol-de-rol-lay; no collar-ology encore I’ll say

the words that gave them a most terrible shock

were “I ordered a lounge and you’ve made me a frock.”

fol-de-rol-liddle-lol; the theme of my song: no matter what happens the journeyman is wrong!

~ as told in Nothing but the Best by Thomas Girtin


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