Eliza Doolittle Jumps The Pond

*to be read in an outraged, Cockney drawl

Just ‘oo wait, Professor, it’s all th’same tch’oo -

Tweak yr crinkled gaze on chiner, an’ t’ink it dinnertiime

And it only pas’ tea! And you wer’naw’ inviited, naaaaaooow,

Nor not t’other time neither , an’ n’extra n’s to make it nowat -

I sez again, tch‘oo wait, and putchyr focus ‘ere on th’floor –

Who’ll be broomin’ up what’s fallen?

Scrapin’ the flagstones for bits of whatcher los’?

Yr bes’ sights at a bes’ friend, to luv ‘oo when doan deserve tipwillow

So sharp, it’d slice the gums ov’a mouth and ‘oo woulda

‘Ad some pity, but for chokin’ on th' blood.

Woulda had me pity, but for lookin’ pas' th' soot, lookin' at stars!

So hard I catched ‘em lookin’ down atchoo,

An’ I see what ‘em catchalight, Professor,

Th’ broomstraw in yr soul.