Print

I was Lord Kitchener's valet We were ever so palet I was always there to press his suits and clean his boots and in return, as everybody knows, He gave me all his old clothes I was Lord Kitchener's valet We used to share the same chalet He would often say that when he died that he'd provide for me and you can see just what I got: his winter woolies and the lot Oh, Lord Kitchener what to do? Everyone is wearing clothes that once belonged to you If you were alive today, I'm sure you would explode if you took a stroll down the Portebello road I was Lord Kitchener's valet I was by his side to wipe his shoes and serve his booze I knew my loyalty would be repaid I'm in the second hand trade Oh, Lord Kitchener what to do? Everyone is wearing clothes that once belonged to you I know that you've forgiven me if I tell you on my knees Your wardrobe is a victim of the economic squeeze From Letras Mania