GLADYS:
Havana, Havana he's heading for Havana
I know that Sammy is our man
He'll find the kids and say
The day he'll nail the creeps
And make 'em pay
And while he's there he'll get a tan

Who am I kidding?
He's no hero more
Like a kitten up a tree
Everyone thinks he's this mean
Old bully he's all talk the rest is rumours

I know Sam
He'll wet his bloomers what was
I thinking he's no tiger...
Except that night in forty-three'!
Please send him home safe and sound
Send back that dear old fart for me

DOORMAN:
Old fart to me!