The Ballad of Gordon McPayne

The tables were filled, and the music played loud at Gordon McPayne’s that night.

The Brass was all polished, the lamps were ablaze, the girls were a perfect delight.

The girls were a perfect delight, my boys;

The girls were a perfect delight.

(All lost on McPayne, who knew nothing six inches or more from his nose by sight.)

The place was just startin’ to kick up its heels, when a stranger swung open the door.

“I’m lookin’ for Gordon McPayne,” he growled, and everyone slid to the floor.

And everyone slid to the floor, my boys;

And everyone slid to the floor—

(Except for McPayne, who continued quite coolly to peer at his cards as before.)

The stranger turned slowly, and fastened his eyes on the back of McPayne’s shiny head.

“Stand up,” he intoned, but was staunchly ignored; so he thundered, “STAND UP, OR YOU’RE DEAD!”

He thundered, “STAND UP, OR YOU’RE DEAD!” my boys;

He thundered, “STAND UP, OR YOU’RE DEAD!”

(The truth is that Gordon McPayne, being quite deaf, heard not one single word the man said.)

The stranger had just started raising his gun, when a noise made him start like a sheep:

A thunderous wildcat from hell—so it seemed—was crashing up out of the deep.

Was crashing up out of the deep, my boys;

Was crashing up out of the deep.

(It was Gordon McPayne: he was breathing as Gordon McPayne always breathed in his sleep.)

Wild-eyed and stumbling, the stranger cleared out, and has never been heard from again.

The boys gave a “WHOOP!” slapped McPayne on the back, and composed this historic refrain.

Composed this historic refrain, my boys;

Composed this historic refrain.

And just as I heard it I sing it to you: The Ballad of Gordon McPayne.

The Ballad of Gordon McPayne, my boys;

The Ballad of Gordon McPayne.

(Though maybe I spruced up a detail or two)

The Ballad of Gordon McPayne.

Paddington Chase