Hungry Hash House From: Charlie Poole 
I’m a boarder and I dwell, in that second-class hotel If I stay here long, I think I’ll be insane; For I lay here on my bunk and I cannot get my trunk For board I owe would break a millionaire. 
Oh they feed on chicken pie, if you eat it you will die Beef you cannot cut it with a sword; Oh, the undertakers hang around, for there’s work to be found In that awful hungry hash house where I board. 
Oh, they carried me upstairs one night, I had neither gun nor knife Something they had never done before; Oh, the fleas held me down while the chinches crept around In that awful hungry hash house where I board. 
Oh, the beefsteak it was rare and the butter had red hair And the baby had its feet both in the soup; Oh, the eggs they would not match, if you touched one it would hatch In that awful hungry hash house where I board. 
Repeat last verse 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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