作曲 : Kern, Wodehouse
From The Beauty Prize (1923 Broadway Musical)
Music by Jerome Kern
Lyrics by P. G. Wodehouse

Charles Augustus Chaytor,
Wireless operator,
Loved the fair,
golden hair'd Bessie Magee.
She lived in Darjeeling
Avenue, West Ealing;
He was always out at sea.
Such was his devotion
That went on the ocean,
Ev'ry day,
he'd relay greetings to Bess.
But I'm told that sometimes
There, alas, would come times,
When he moan'd this S.O.S.:
[Refrain
You can't make love by wireless;
It's like bread without the jam.
There is nothing girls desire less
Than a cold Marconi gram.
For it's something you can't speak to
From a someone you can't see-
It's like a village church that's spire-less,
Or a little home that's fire-less,
Or a motor car that's tyre-less,
And it isn't any good to me.

Mark the horrid sequel,
It is hard to equal;
Fate with grim,
tragic whim upset his dream.
For that maiden fickle
Wed a man from Crickle-
-wood who kept a laundry steam.
Charles, poor man, thus jilted,
Naturally wilted;
Soured he grew,
Gloomy too, quite lost his smile.
Never more his jokes'll
Entertain the fo'csle;
He keeps muttering all the while:
[Refrain
You can't make love by wireless;
It's like eggs without the ham.
There is nothing girls desire less
Than a cold Marconi gram.
For it's something you can't speak to
From a someone you can't see-
It's like a village church that's spire-less,
Or a Selfridges that's buyer-less,
Or a Pekingese that's sire-less,
And it isn't any good to me!