(Chorus:) All over Italy they know his concertina, Poppa Piccolino, Poppa Piccolino, He plays so prettily to every signorina, Poppa Piccolino from sunny Italy. Oh, listen to the music I hear Oh, Poppa Piccolino is near to win a smile or maybe a tear before travelling on. A vagabond who wanders along, a millionaire, but only in song, as though the world might really belong to him. This fellow plays a melody so mellow that everyone keeps shouting "Bello, Bello!" Chorus Instrumental No matter what the calendars show It can't be spring, and I ought to know, until I hear him singing "'allo, `allo I'm here again!" A flower in his battered old hat and a smile for every doggie and cat And children get the friendliest pat of all. I'll give his name, so if you ever meet him, then you will know exactly how to greet him. Chorus Instrumental (parlando:) Everybody loves Poppa Piccolino. He has the cutest little monkey to collect the lira. But one day Poppa Piccolino was very sad. He lost his concertina, and he couldn't find it anywhere. And there was no music, and everyone was very unhappy. But the little monkey found it for him and gave it back to Poppa Piccolino. And now everybody is happy again. Chorus |: sunny Italy :| Good-bye, Poppa Piccolino!