Everybody Works But Father

Every morning at six 0-clock
I go to my work
Overcoat buttoned up round my neck
No job would I shirk
Winter wind blows around my head
Cutting up my face
I tell you what I’d like to have
My dear old fathers place

Everybody works but father
And he he sits around all day
Feet in front of the fire
Smoking his pipe of clay
Mother takes in washing
So does sister Ann
Everybody works at our house
But my old man

A man named work moved into town
and father heard the news
Work so neart my father started
shaking in his shoes
Mister Work walked by my house
He saw with great surprise
My father sitting in his chair
With blinders on his eyes

At beating carpets father said
He smiply was immense
We took the parlor carpet out
And hung it on the fence
My mother said now beat it dear
With all your might and main
And father beat it right back
To the fireside again



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