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All the nice girls love a candle,

All the nice girls love a wick,

For there's something about a candle

Which reminds them of a prick.

Ship ahoy, ship ahoy.

Nice and greasy, slips in easy,

It's a girl's pride and joy,

It's been up our Lady Jane

And it's going up again,

Ship ahoy, ship ahoy.

JL you reminded me of this-my sister took up candle making in the early '70s and was making candles using the dipping method where you dip the wicks in a bucket of melted wax and stearin repeatedly until the candles are the thickness you want. In between dips she had them tied to a grid, hanging down, to dry. They were pink. She was very proud of them (and she was 17 and very innocent) and took them into the front room where our mum, a neighbour and our elderly aunt were drinking tea. The uproar was such that I ran to see what was going on. The old women were crying with laughter and my sister was bewildered and kept saying 'What?'. My other sister (older and more worldly) came in and told her that they looked like willies- my sister was mortified and gave up candle- making forever- just as well because it stank the house out!

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