American Old Time Song Lyrics: 12 Polly Perkins Of Washington Square
Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 12
Polly Perkins of Washington Square.
I'm a broken-hearted butcher boy,
In grief I'm arrayed.
Through keeping the company
Of a young servant-maid,
Who lived on board-wages,
The house to keep clear,
In a gentleman's family,
Near Washington Square.
Chorus.
Oh! she was as beautiful as a butterfly,
There's none could compare
With pretty little Polly Perkins
Of Washington Square.
Her eyes were as black
As the pips Of a pear;
No rose in the garden
With her cheeks could compare;
Her hair hung in ringerlets
So beautiful and long;
I thought that she loved me,
But found I was wrong.-Chorus.
Whan I'd call in the morning,
And cry: "Meat! "below,
At the sound of ray voice,
Her face she would show,
With a smile upon her countenance
And a laugh in her eye;
If I thought she'd have loved me,
I'd have laid down to die.-Chorus.
When I asked her to marry me,
She said: "Oh! what stuff!"
And told me to drop it;
For she'd had quite enough
Of my nonsense-at the same time,
I'd been very kind.
But to marry a butcher-boy,
She didn't feel inclined.-Chorus.
Oh! the man that has me,
Must have silver and gold-
A chariot to ride in.
And be handsome and bold;
His hair must be curly
As any watch-spring,
And his whiskers as big
As a brush for clothing.-Chorus.
The words that she uttered
Went straight through my heart,
I sob-bed, I sigh-ed,
And straight did depart,
With a tear on my eyelid,
As big as a pear,
Biding good-bye to Polly Perkins,
And Washington Square.-Chorus
In six months, she married,
This hard-hearted girl;
It was not a viscount,
It was not an earl,
It was not a barouetÂ
But worser by far, 'Twas a bow-legged conductor Of a Third avenue car.-Chorus