HE'S WAITING YET.
Copyright, 1892, by H. F. Harding.
Words by M. Cavanagh. Composed by Will H. Fox.
One night I went upon the mash; I met a girl and acted rash.
I spoke of love aim other things-of wedded bliss and diamond rings;
I saw her home, and at the gate she said, "Next night, as sure as fate.
She'd meet me where before we met;" but for the girl I'm waiting yet.
I'm waiting yet in grief and pain; for four long hours in slush and rain
I hung around, got soaking wet-she never came-I'm walling yet.
Once, In a game of draw, I sat and had four diamonds dealt me, pat;
They all stayed in and saw my raise; I thought them all a lot of jays.
I drew one card, And didn't look to see how much the dealer took;
A diamond would have won the pot. I waited, and a spade I got.
I'm wailing yet in grief and pain; they got my wealth, gold watch and chain.
That little spade caused me regret-for a diamond flush I'm waiting yet.
My tailor's bill is overdue; 'twill so remain and! feel blue.
I'm dodging him by night and day-my appetite he's drove away.
A No. I with him I stood-poor man he thought my credit good;
Four nobby suits for me he made; and now he's waiting to be paid.
He's waiting yet in grief and pain; his hopes of payments are all vain.
I said I'd liquidate the debt one year ago-he's wailing yet,
I dabbled once in politics, but wasn't up to all the tricks;
They said I'd be in every deal-another name, you know, for steal.
I always voted with the mob. and helped them out on many a job;
The boodle that they said I'd get I'm longing for and waiting yet.
I'm waiting yet in grief and pain; that I've been done, to me is plain.
They got the stuff and skipped, you bet, and for my share I'm wailing yet