The Man That Knows It All - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
THE MAN THAT KNOWS IT ALL Copyright, 1884, by Wm. A. Pond & Co. Words by Ed. Harrigan. Music by Dave Braham. 
The day of election is coming on, Coming on, coming right on; Oh, there will be trouble and lots of storm, Oh, what d'ye think of it now? Oh, that's an old chestnut, I've heard it before, Long before, oh, take it next door, To the deaf and dumb woman upon the top floor, I'm the man that knows it all. 
Chorus. Oh, he's an oracle, oh, so wise, He'll take the prize I should surmise; His legs are bewitching, oh, look at their size, The man that knows it all. 
We'll soon have the new Arcade underground, Underground, under the town; We'll drive off the stages, and bring fares down, Oh, what d'ye think of it now? Oh, that's an old timer, don't give it to me, Not to me, oh, send it to sea On our beautiful vessels, John Roache's navy, I'm the man that knows it all. 
Chorus. The cut of his figure is excellent, He's ne'er a cent, crooked and bent; His clothes are from Simpson's, his uncle lent, The man that knows it all. 
Oh, free trade and tariff are now at war, Now at war, oh, what a bore; Come solve us the riddle, come tell us the law, Oh, what d'ye think of it now? Oh, that's an old circus, it's perfectly muck, Get a truck, take it to Puck; He'll give it a cartoon, oh, he has the pluck, I'm the man that knows it all. 
Chorus. Oh, he's a Webster, but overfed, He lays in bed with a swelled head; Jim Blaine and Grove Cleveland they hold him in dread, The man that knows it all. 
There's shiploads of Mormonites coming o'er, Coming o'er, bound for Utah; Oh, each has five wives and they shout for more, What dye think of it now? Oh, that's an old wrinkle in Solomon's time, Not in mine, I'm much inclined To take but one trick, boys, not five of a kind, I'm the man that knows it all. 
Chorus. His voice is a tenor, he's quite au fail, Feeds on hay, he is a jay; He thinks he's an actor, he'll kill the play, The man that knows it all. 
They're sending out vessels up to the North Pole, Every soul gallant and bold; A maid, I am told, they will never behold, 
What d'ye think of it now? That's an old Mother Hubbard, it's buried in snow, Let it go, tell it to Joe; I've sat on an iceberg while all in a glow, I'm the man that knows it all. 
Chorus. Oh, he is a darling, a regular slim, Fond of gin, plenty of chin; He'll tell you a story or sing you a hymn, The man that knows it all.