The story unfurled in the eyes of the world
On Tuesday nineteenth of July.
At first ‘twas a rumour, just said in good humour,
Which spokespeople wouldn’t deny.
But then speculation turned to expectation,
The story took on bricks and mortar.
Then the press got a taste and flew in at great haste
The day Monica got in the water.
RTE got the word and despatched Charlie Bird
On the very first flight going out.
Sky News, CNN sent reporters out when
The whispers left no room for doubt.
The news, people stated, in fact generated
More int’rest than it really oughta,
But millions tuned in with a very wide grin
The day Monica got in the water.
Majorca was packed with reporters. In fact,
There was standing room only in places.
All squashed up together in baking hot weather,
A million odd lobster-red faces.
The queue for good seats ran for miles round the streets,
And it never appeared to get shorter,
All eager to stare, and to say, “I was there,
The day Monica got in the water.”
All breath was quite bated at the time designated,
And Charlie got really excira.
In front of the throng, she took off her sarong,
And the cameramen hollered, delira.
Then all whispering ceased as the tension increased,
And nobody moved an aorta.
You could hear your heart beat in the stifling heat,
The day Monica got in the water.
And then came the roars and tremendous applause
As her bottom slid down out of view.
Poor Charlie went mad and his camera crew had
To restrain him from jumping in too.
And live on TV, her old father said he
Was tremendously proud of his daughter,
And Kofi Annan sang “The Banks of the Bann,”
The day Monica got in the water.
The churchbells were ringing, angelic choirs singing,
As round the world parties got started.
There were whoopings of joy from each man, girl and boy,
As the marvellous news was imparted.
All conflicts were stopped and old arguments dropped,
There was praise heaped from every quarter.
Yes, the whole world agreed ‘twas momentous indeed,
The day Monica got in the water.
On Tuesday nineteenth of July.
At first ‘twas a rumour, just said in good humour,
Which spokespeople wouldn’t deny.
But then speculation turned to expectation,
The story took on bricks and mortar.
Then the press got a taste and flew in at great haste
The day Monica got in the water.
RTE got the word and despatched Charlie Bird
On the very first flight going out.
Sky News, CNN sent reporters out when
The whispers left no room for doubt.
The news, people stated, in fact generated
More int’rest than it really oughta,
But millions tuned in with a very wide grin
The day Monica got in the water.
Majorca was packed with reporters. In fact,
There was standing room only in places.
All squashed up together in baking hot weather,
A million odd lobster-red faces.
The queue for good seats ran for miles round the streets,
And it never appeared to get shorter,
All eager to stare, and to say, “I was there,
The day Monica got in the water.”
All breath was quite bated at the time designated,
And Charlie got really excira.
In front of the throng, she took off her sarong,
And the cameramen hollered, delira.
Then all whispering ceased as the tension increased,
And nobody moved an aorta.
You could hear your heart beat in the stifling heat,
The day Monica got in the water.
And then came the roars and tremendous applause
As her bottom slid down out of view.
Poor Charlie went mad and his camera crew had
To restrain him from jumping in too.
And live on TV, her old father said he
Was tremendously proud of his daughter,
And Kofi Annan sang “The Banks of the Bann,”
The day Monica got in the water.
The churchbells were ringing, angelic choirs singing,
As round the world parties got started.
There were whoopings of joy from each man, girl and boy,
As the marvellous news was imparted.
All conflicts were stopped and old arguments dropped,
There was praise heaped from every quarter.
Yes, the whole world agreed ‘twas momentous indeed,
The day Monica got in the water.
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