Archive for the ‘Father’ Tag

The Letter Edged in Black

I was standing by my window yesterday morning
Without a throught of worry or a care
When I saw the postman swinging up the pathway
With such a cherry smile and jaunty air

He rang the bell and whistled while he waited
And then he said good morning to you Jack
But he little knew the sorrow he had brought me
When he handed me a letter edged in black

With a trebling hand I took the letter from him
I broke the seal and this is what it said
Come home my boy your poor old father wants you
Come home my boy your dear old mothers dead

The last words your mother ever spoke were
Tell my boy I want him to come back
My eyes are blurred my poor old heart is breaking
As Im writing you this letter edged in black

Those angry words I wish I had never spoken
You know I did not mean them don’t you Jack
May the Angels carry with them am asking
Your forgiveness in this letter edged in black

I bow my head in silence and in sorrow
The sunshine of my life it all has fled
Since the postman brought that letter yesterday morning
Stayin come home my boy your dear old mothers dead

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The Drunkards Dream **

** some quick research reveals this song is correctly titled ‘The Husband’s Dream”

Why Dermont you look healthy now
Your dress is neat and clearn
I never see you drunk about
Pray tell me where youve been
Your wife and family all are well
You used to treat them strange
But you are kinder to them now
How come this happy change

It was a dream a warning dream
Which heaven sent to me
To snatch me from the drunkards curse
Grief want and misery
I dreamed one night I staggered home
It seemed a silent gloom
I missed my wife where could she be
And strangers in my room

I saw my children weeping round
I scarecely drew my breath
They hugged and kissed her lifeless form
Forever cold in death
Oh father came and wake her up
The people say shes dead
Just make her speak and smile once more
We’ll never cry for bread

I heard them say poor thing shes dead
She led a wretched life
Greif want and pain have broken her heart
Who’d be a drunkard’s wife
I rose and staggared to my feet
And rushed to where she lay
And boldly kissed her once warm lips
Forever cold as clay

Dear Mary speak tis Dermons Call
Why so I do she cried
I awoke and true my Mary dear was kneeling by my side
I pressed her to my throbing (heart)
While joyous tears did stream
And ever since Ive heaven blessed
For sending me that dream

The Butcher’s Boy

In London City where I did dwell
A butcher’s boy I loved so well
He courted me my life away
And with me then he would not stay

I went up stairs to go to bed
And nothing to my mother said
But mother said your acting queer
What is the trouble my daughter dear

Oh mother dear you need not know
The pain and sorrow grief and woe
Give me a chair and set me down
With pen and ink to write words down

Oh dig my grave both wide and deep
And place a marble at my feet
Upon my breast a snow white dove
To show the world that I died for love

And when her father first came home
Where is my girl where has she gone
He went upstairs the door he broke
And found her hanging to a rope

He took his knife and cut her down
And in her bosom these words he found
A silly girl am I you know
To hang myself for the butchers boy

Blame it On To Poor Old Father

Now weve a lively family of kids theres heavenly three
And everywhere you chance to roam our house is called the childrens home
Yesterday someone brought another one to up
So we shouted rural Britania and cried
Don’t make a fuss

But Blame it onto poor old father
Blame it onto poor old Dad
Hes so nice and breezy takes things nice and easy
Blame it onto poor old father
Fathers never never sad
[If] a blame good job [into] another thirty bob
So blame it onto poor old Dad

Mother caught her finger in the mangle last July
now her language it was floury so we all began to cry

Blame it on to poor old Father
Blame it on to poor old Dad
Hes so nice and easy takes things nice and breezy
Blame it onto poor old Father
Fathers never never sad
The old black cat had kittens in his hat
So we blamed it onto poor old dad

((I question this texts status as lyric due to it’s form and lack of meter))

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

F.M.M