American Old Time Song Lyrics: 39 Georgie

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 39

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Copyright, 1892, by Benj. W. Hitchcock.
Words and Music by H. Chateau And H. Albertini.
Sung by Marie- Vanoni.

To-night I am not very gay, the reason I will tell to you:
I fell in love the other day, my little heart is burst in two.
My own sweetheart is sitting there, the big bass-fiddle he does play;
Alas! for me he does not care, but practices like this all day:

Zoo, zoo, zoo, zoo, Georgie, Georgie! devotedly I love you, my own baby!
Your music I adore; Georgie, Georgie! one kiss for her above you.
(Imploring)-You won't?
(Angry)-Then don't! I shall love you still all the more.

My Georgie, you're a picture fair; your hair is like a bunch of hay.
And boots as long as this you wear; your nose gets redder every day.
Ah! take me to your fond embrace, I love to linger by your side,
To gaze into your lovely face (the other girls who did it, died).-Chorus.

Last night outside a music hall I saw you looking very gay,
And tho' there was no wind at all; you walked along just in this way.
They say you'd nineteen pints of beer, And "Irish whiskies" forty-three:
I'm very angry, Georgie dear; when next you drink, 'twill be with me.- Cho.

Extra Verses.
Go, Georgie, with your double bass; you are not worthy such as I;
To some one else I'll turn my face, And to attract his love I'll try.
I see a handsome fellow here, who looks as if he yearned for me
(Turning suddenly to the bass-drummer),
And yet-and yet-oh, Georgie, dear, why will you so provoking be?
Georgie, Georgie! devotedly I love you, my own baby, etc.

Now, Georgie, I'm mad with you; not mad in love, as you suppose,
But full of ire And hatred, too, for him who dares my will oppose;
Henceforth our paths are not the same; we'll never speak as we pass by.
What's that? I thought you called my name; or did you wink the other eye?
Georgie, Georgie! devotedly I love you, my own baby, etc.

Another Version.
He was the sweetest little beau; he looked just like a fashion plate;
He swung a big cane to and fro, just like a kangaroo his gait.
His necktie was a flaming red; his tiny whiskers were the same;
he seemed on toothpicks to be fed; when his girl met him she'd exclaim:

Georgie, Georgie! you fascinating fellow;
Sweetness, darling! I'm sorry for you dear;
Georgie, Georgie! with love I'm turning yellow;
Ta, ta! here's Pa! And his temper's awful queer!

He used to follow her around, just like a noodle on a string;
His upper story wasn't sound; you'd think so when he tried to sing.
One night, when full of beer or love, to serenade he stood outside-
A pitcher landed from above upon his head, while his girl cried:- Chorus

The moon he loved to contemplate, and dream about his lady fair;
He used to linger at her gate-her little brother saw him there.
Then, with a hammer and some nails, he crept upon him, like a ghost;
And she would sing while his coat-tails were dangling to that old gate-post:- Cho.

Once, early in the eve, he called-it happened that her "Pa" was in.
"Who is that funny freak?" he bawled, "And is it made of wood or tin?"
Then came the music of a boot (a number twelve her father wore);
They saw a very damaged suit, while that girl sang beside the door:-Chorus.
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