MY FRIEND, THE MAJOR.
Copyright, 1894, by Francis, Day & Hunter.
Written and Composed by E. W. Rogers.
You must know my friend, the major, quite the rage in New York town;
In the West this gay old stager has procured a wide renown.
Biggest liar, can't stand fire: never known to stand a drink,
Sponges, lounges, mashes, dashes, at the ladies tips a wink;
Boozes, snoozes, struts and cruises 'round the club till half-past two.
Right turn, quick march, booh-oo-oo!
My friend, the major, is the idol of the fair,
The ladies chaff, wink and smile, all admire his military style;
My friend, the major, is a ladidadidoo,
The men are all afraid when be toddles on parade with his boo-oo-oo.
Know the major's always stony, always up to sundry pranks;
Meets you and demands a pony, borrows it and gives no thanks.
Billiard player, not one gayer, very thick at Baccarat;
if he meets you, never treats you, gently bids you tralala.
If you smite him, you can fight him, this is what he'll quickly do,
Right turn, quick march, boo-oo-oo!- Chorus.
What He's major of? I don't know if his company exists;
Search, and then I'm sure you won't know, he's not in the army list.
Sundry people, who can't keep all news they hear from day to day,
Say this gorger was a forger, served his time up Sing Sing way,
And by warder kept in order, he'd to march, big stones to hew,
Right turn, quick march, boo-oo-oo.- Chorus.