Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis - A Love Letter lyrics

Dearest! You know you ever ARE the nearest To my fond heart. Joking apart, I swear, by all the silly stars above you, Darling, I love you! ... I really don't know what more I can say. But, lest you may Consider this epistle too brief, And nurse some silly - some absurd belief That I'm neglectful. Why, I'll try To fill a sheet or two - To comfort you. What can I say? Oh, by the way! I noticed, somewhere, in the paper lately That someone named - er - was it Mister Blaitley? No - Blakeley, I think. (Another dip of ink.) This Mr. Blakeley says the Labor Party Will gladly give support, both full and hearty, To ANY man who send this person, Hughes To - well, you know the term that I would use? . . . Darling, I must fill out a sheet or two. I know that you Are not much interested in politics - (You are so full of such distracting tricks) And I remember that last time you noted You said you simply doted Upon one candidate's absurd moustache. Dear, you were rash . . . . Now, let me see, 'twas Brown - No? Smithson, was it? I recollect the fool lost his deposit. But, anyhow, I want to warn you now Against a repetition of such acts. Let us get down to facts. Can you believe - Can you, my precious pippin, e'er conceive That I (despite my faults and obvious failings) could - (No; that's no good.) But can You realise that a crowd of sane, honest, intelligent, right-thinking, earnest, idealistic politicians can evolve a really patriotic plan (That's getting scientific, But I am most remarkably prolific) Can They evolve a plan Predicating that any ordinary and, say, unspecified man (Your pardon! I do not Refer to Mister Watt) But do you think they can With decency declare that ANY MAN May get then into Office - if he can? Indubitably, NO!! The more I go - However, inter alia, Think you such men give heed to our Australia? Think you those burning Questions waiting on the threshold yearning To be discussed Have got them 'fussed'? No, sweetest, no. It's just the Game you know. Think you they're patriotic, Or just, well, say neurotic? Think you they take the view That these shrewd moves advance, say, me and you? My dear, they don't. And, while the Party System lasts, they won't. Those vital questions, Those statesmanlike suggestions Regarding - well - why, emigration, say And some reduction in a member's pay, That linger on the doormat, palpitating, Will go on waiting, While puerile politicians 'play the game.' Ain't it a shame? . . . My cabbage! I'd forgotten You always thought that politics were 'rotten.' Pardon this letter. Next time I shall endeavour to do better If you are bored, old thug, it truly grieves me. I hope this missive finds you as it leaves me. So, dear, I'll meet you on the block at six. And spite all politics, We'll carry on.