I Must Go Out On Sunday - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
I MUST GO OUT ON SUNDAY. Sung by Miss Kitty Brooke. 
I'm Jenny Jinks the kitchen maid, of hard work not at all afraid, Nor yet particular to a shade, but I must go out on Sunday; Six days I'll work with all my might to keep the pots and kettles bright. And put the cobwebs out of sight, but I must go out on Sunday. 
Chorus. Sis days I'll work with all my might to keep the pots and kettles bright, And put the cobwebs out of sight, but I must go out on Sundays. 
When first I went to take a place, the lady looked me in the face, And said, "Young girl, now state your case, and what about your Sundays." "Mann, I can bake And I can brew and I can cook an Irish stew, And wash a shirt And iron it, too, but I must go out on Sundays.-Chorus. 
"Indeed! why then 'tis plain," said she, "that you will never do for me; I took my leave with a curtsey, resolved to have my Sundays; A dozen places more I tried throughout great New York City wide. But everywhere the ladies cried, "We don' give out our Sundays." - Chorus. 
At last to bring the fate to book, sly counsel with myself I took, And got a place with Doctor Hook, who never mentioned Sundays; But when came round all days the best, in pink And green myself I dressed, And sailed off gaily to the West, like other girls on Sunday. - Chorus. 
With Corporal Tompkins of the Blues, so handsome-six feet in his shoes, I spent the day. did what I chose, And planned for future Sundays; But fancy when I homeward sped the family was all in bed; Says one who through the keyhole said, "That's going out on Sunday." -Cho. 
Now wasn't this a pretty plight? no friends at hand, locked out all night, And told it only served me right for going out on Sundays; But worse, because I kicked the door, "police!" was called; there came up four. Who took me to-I'll say no more, but it wasn't a place for Sundays. - Cho.