Paul Evans isn’t a name familiar to most people. He had two hits. The first one, recently massacred by Bombalurina, was “Seven Little Girls…”. There followed a seventeen-year gap. Then came perhaps his magnum opus “Hello, This is Joannie”, about a bloke who has an argument with his girlfriend. She is then killed in a car-crash and he phones her apartment to hear her voice on the answering machine (making it a sort of 0898 number for necrophiles). This second hit spawned an LP, full of atrocious songs: this one is probably the worst, and may well have the most sickly lyrics ever committed to vinyl.

She walked into the hospital, when the baby was almost due.
They asked her name and she replied, "I'll leave that up to you".
My lover called me "Darling", but he didn't call me "Bride"
And I'll never be called "Mama", by the little one inside,

And she said, "I'm giving up my baby".
She didn't have to tell them more, they'd heard it all before.
"I'm giving up my baby".
The pain that soon would start, would never match the pain in her heart
(Woh-oh-woh-oh-woh-oh-woh).

That very evening, she gave birth and as soon as the baby cried
They held it up for her to see, but she turned her head aside.
"I don't want to see the baby, it's not mine to enjoy.
Please never tell me if I had, a little girl or boy".

And she said "I'm giving up my baby".
They couldn't change her mind - she wanted the papers signed
"I'm giving up my baby".
No-one bought drinks in bars, and no-one handed out the cigars.

Then suddenly, the one she loved and thought she'd lost rushed in.
He said "I love you darling, oh what a fool I've bin [sic].
Forgive me, honey, marry me" - she looked up and she smiled.
"Can't wait till I go home with you, with you and with our child".

And they said "We're not giving up our baby".
And out of tragedy, was born a fa-mil-eeee.
"We're not giving up our baby".
I know this story's true, and Mom and Dad...         
...Thank you...