American Old Time Song Lyrics: 31 In A Very Different Place

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 31

IN A VERY DIFFERENT PLACE.
Bung by G. H. McDermot.

The man who wrote this ditty is no poet laureate;
His songs are rather tasty, but they're neither good nor great;
He lives up in an attic, lives, on sprats, and should he die,
I'm very much afraid in Poet's Corner he'll not lie.

Chorus.
But a very different place, nh, a very different place;
When a dust-cart passes by
They will clear the old dust-bin and then chuck the poet in.
Till the sweet, sweet by-And-by.

My two big brothers bought some plums, which I resolved to sneak,
But oh! they watched the cupboard, for as I went there so meek,
They both kicked out at once, and as I grasped those plums so sweet
A pair of boots were on me, but they were not on my feet.

Chorus.
But a very different place, ah, a very different place;
As I heaved a frantic sigh,
I'd discovered, to my cost, sitting down would be a frost.
Till the sweet, sweet by-And-by.

To hear a sermon preached I went when I was quite a lad,
And I for the collection got a shilling from my dad;
Said he, "It's for the heathens, put It in their plate just so."
But did I put that shilling in the heathens' plate? Oh, no!

Chorus.
But a very different place, ah, a very different place;I
For those savages I'd sigh,
But when they trotted round the plate, I said "Let the heathens wait
Till the sweet, sweet by-and-by."

Around my house there walk each night a rowdy, ramping lot,
They call themselves Salvationists, and spout such awful rot;
They say they're bound for glory, of future bliss they yell.
Now, if they go to glory, I'd much rather go to-well-

Chorus.
To a very different place, ah, a very different place;
Where they keep things warm and dry,
Ah! and where, I will be bound, comic singers will be found,
In the sweet, sweet by-and-by.

I like to do the "heavy," as my style was years ago.
But still, I must confess, my style is only outer show;
For though I wear a really splendid bright watch-chain, I vow;
Yet strange to say my watch is not inside my pocket now.

Chorus.
In a very different place, ah, a very different place;
Where the three brass balls hang high.
Safe within my uncle's shop, where I rather think 'twill stop
Till the sweet, sweet by-and-by.

A cousin I'd not seen for years invited me to go
To a higher school for ladies, that she kept in Pimlico;
I feared the thing would be so slow, to shirk it hard I fought,
But, to my great delight, I found 'twas not the school I thought.

Chorus.
But a very different place, ah, a very different place;
When the midnight hour is nigh'.
If inside you chance to drop, I will bet a crown you stop

Till the sweet, sweet by-And-by.