THE DAY I LOST ME JOB.
Copyright, 1891, by Frank Harding
Words and Music by George Marshall.
I'm nearly driven looney since the day I lost me job,
I'd been working for the grocer man Pat Flynn;
But he bounced me without warning, just a week last Friday morning,
For be noticed I had taken too much gin.
He paid to me my wages, and then I started home
For to tell me family all about the row;
But Instead of sympathizing, sure, they turned on the, like paean,
And they all do make it pleasant for me now.
I've searched the city like a Turk, to try and get a stroke of work;
Me wife she wipes the floor with me and soaks me in the gob;
My two sons Dan and Micky, sure, they beat me and they kick me.
They have me killed entirely since the day I lost me job.
They locked me out the other night without a bite to eat,
'Twas raining and me clothes got very damp;
I kicked the door and hollered, but I very soon got collared
By an officer that took me for a tramp.
he fanned me with his cudgel, and I made my escape;
In a wagon round the corner I did hide.
And soon I was a-dozing, in the morning I was frozen.
And from the cold that night I nearly died.
I'm just as frightened as a mouse, I doesn't go inside the house.
For if I do I'm sure to be attacked by the mob;
They swear that I am lazy, but they've nearly drove me crazy,
And they treat me like a booby since the day I lost me job.
Me next door neighbor Murphy, says to me the other day,
"Mr. Reagan, will you have a drink with me?"
And for to soothe me trouble, sure, I drank till I saw double,
And we both got on the divil of a spree.
We then got in an argument, I don't know what about,
Until Murphy threw his fist into my face,
And the gang all gathered round me, and they started in to pound me,
Then with me sure they tried to sweep the place.
I'm trotting humpbacked, do ye see, from dodging lamps and crockery;
I think they mean to murder me and have me life begob;
With axes they do chase me, and with cowhides they do lace me,
I haven't had no comfort since the day I lost me job.