'Twas mine that lovely sunbed.
Mein Gott! where did it go?
Beneath the laundered towel
of a German so-and-so.
It made me fume, foam at the mouth.
it got my stomach heaving,
so late that night I ventured out,
determined to get even.

I tied those towels in sailors knots
and chucked 'em in the drink,
then rubbed my hands in fevered glee
as I watched the buggers sink.
With morning came a hubbub,
Dummkopf! and Schwien! I heard,
followed then quite rapidly
by a much more naughty word.

Quite casually I passed the pool
and spied with sheer delight,
two dozen angry Germans
without a towel in sight.
Sweet victory I claimed that day,
drank deep of sweetest wine.
Stretched out in rapt oblivion
on the sunbed that was mine!