No Work - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
NO WORK. Copyright, 1879, by Mrs. Pauline Lieder. Words by Berger and Amon. Music by Ned Straight. 
I am hard up, you don't know me, for my clothes are tattered and torn; My parents died when I was young, I'm forsaken, disliked and forlorn; I travelled this country thro' and thro', on the road and on the rail; My limbs are getting stiff and cold for the want of a warm meal; They say, why don't you go to work? when they know there's none to be had; They slam the door in front of your face if you ask them for a bite of bread. 
Some tramps they beg from door to door, and they ask for charity; They say they've children, ten, at home, and they can't support their family; But place a nickel in their hand, to some grog-shop they will run-A poor man's money they will take, and they spend it all for rum; Now that's the kind that want no work, for they're weak and sick, is their plea; When they get bread they'll throw it away, from a workingman's poor family. 
Twas at an humble cot I called, and I rapped at the back door, A man asked me what would I have? I told him I was hungry and poor; Said he, come in and take a seat; and he gave me bread and tea; He was a son of Erin's Isle, toiling for his family. I shook his hand, so hard and tough, and the tears rolled fast down my face; May heaven protect his good family, for you're welcome always at his place.