In the Tower of London, large as life
The ghost of Anne Boleyn walks, I declare
For Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife
Until he made the axe-man bob her hair
Ah yes, he did her wrong long years ago
And she comes up at night to tell him so

With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the b_____ tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour

She comes to find King Henry, she means giving him what for
Gadzooks she's gonna tell him off for having spilled her gore
And just in case the axe-man wants to give her an encore
She has her head tucked underneath her arm

Sometimes gay King Henry gives a spread
For all his pals and gals, a ghostly crew
The axe-man carves the joints and cuts the bread
Then in walks Anne Boleyn to queer the do
She holds her head up with a wild war whoop
And Henry says, "Don't drop it in the soup!"

With her head tucked underneath her arm
She walks the b_____ tower
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour

The sentries think it's a football that she carries in
And when they've had a few they shout, Is Army going to win
They think it's Red Grange instead of poor ole Ann Boleyn
With her head tucked underneath her arm

Along the drafty corridors, for miles and miles she goes
She often catches cold, poor thing, it's cold there when it blows
And it's awfully awkward for the queen to have to blow her nose
With her head tucked underneath her arm

With her head tucked, head tucked
Underneath her arm

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