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CHISELLING THE BURIAL-CLUB.
Next morning quite early I rose,
But I found such a pain in my head, sirs! She had bolted away with my clothes,
And left me alone in the bed, sirs. So, young men, I beg you take care,
And love from your knobs pray abandon it; Or, like me, you'll be caught in a snare,
By one that's a very good hand at it.
Tol lol de rol, etc |
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CHISELLING THE BURIAL-CLUB. Air—"Paddy's Curiosity-Shop."
My old woman one day says to me,
"A thought has popped into my head— How hard up our young ones would be,
If supposing as how you was dead!" Says I, " Old gal, tip us your tin—
You shall never be hard up for grub* For to-morrow I'll muster some tin,
And belong to the Burial-Club."
Chorus—Tol lol de roL, etc
I arose up next morning at nine,
Round rny neck put my Sunday cravat; To my boots gave a jolly good shine,
In the water-pail dipped my silk hat. Just a dollar I had to a cent;
With brickdust I my cheeks gave a rub--Then to the committee I went,
And entered the Burial-Club.
Tol lol de rol, etc
Then I sent my old woman one day
(As a queer thought came into my head)
To the committee, and told her to say As how her poor husband was dead 1 |
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