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In the Bath

Oh I find such simple pleasure when I've had a tiring day,
In the bath, in the bath.
Where the noise of gentle sponging
seems to blend with my top A,
In the bath, in the bath.
To the skirl of pipes vibrating in the boiler room below,
I sing a potpourri of all the songs I used to know,
And the water thunders in and gurgles down the overflow,
In the bath, in the bath.

Then the loathing for my fellows rises steaming from my brain,
In the bath, in the bath.
And condenseth to the Milk of Human Kindness once again,
In the bath, in the bath.
Oh the tingling of the scrubbing brush, the flannel's soft caress!
To wield a lordly loofah is a joy I can't express.
How truly it is spoken: one is next to Godliness
In the bath, in the bath.

Then there comes that dreadful moment
when the water's running cold,
In the bath, in the bath.
When the soap is lost forever and one's feeling tired and old,
In the bath, in the bath.
It is time to pull the plug out, time to mop the bathroom floor,
The towel is in the cupboard and the cupboard is next door!
It's started running hot, let's have another hour or more
In the bath, in the bath!