---

Angela Finkleman twinkled her eyes. At first
I was surprised, then it soon became clear.
We were eleven then, and I was in heaven when
Angela F kissed me in my ear.

Now Angela's kisses, though quite delicious,
became a recurring theme in my life:
A frisson of passion was worth all the cash in
the world, but it harboured a double edged knife.

Ah ah, those jet-black Jewish eyes!
I'll not see their like again.
Ah ah, a lesson in disguise
That I'll be learning till the very end.

Christmas was party time: jelly and pantomime,
back in the fifties, those innocent years.
Angela, party dress, sensual sweet caress, when
Angela F kissed me in my ear.

Now she's nearing seventy with grandchildren at her knee,
hair turning white now - isn't life strange?
That girl's long departed, but I'm not downhearted, 'cos
one thing's for certain: the eyes never change.

Ah, ah, those jet-black Jewish eyes!
I'll not see their like again.
Ah ah, a lesson in disguise
That I'll be learning till the very end.

---

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