Copyright, 1886, by Willis Woodward & Co.
Words and Music by J. F. Mitchell.
Bad luck to Japan and its heathenish ways,
I'm tired of my life thro' the new fangled craze;
Though I know that my face is like Donnybrook's map,
Sure everyone tells me I look like a Jap.
My wife is as bad, if not worse than the rest,
In Japanese costumes each day she is dressed;
She's howling " Tit-Willow " the whole of the day,
And the " Flowers that Bloom in the Spring " tra la lay.
And as I go out for my pitcher of beer,
There is not a child, or a woman or man,
But calls me Mikado McAllister, Ko-Ko,
The red-headed, squinty-eyed Mick from Japan.
Here's a how-de do! Here's a how-de-do!
She says when we quarrel, I'm down on her list,
And tells all the neighbors I'll never be missed;
Her hair is pushed back 'till she can't shut her eyes,
She looks as if struck by eternal surprise.
My dinner sometimes is a half an hour late,
It's a Hamburger steak on a Japanese plate;
My children one time called me father and pap,
But she tells them to call Mikado, the Jap!-Chorus.
She makes herself up like a hand-painted screen,
She goes through the house like a tragedy queen;
She sold the big bed at a second-hand store,
So in Japanese fashion we sleep on the floor
Instead of Mikado it's Ko-Ko I'll be,
If she don't stop her monkeying antics with me;
She will not go out for the beer with a can,
For she says that such things are not done in Japan.-Chorus.