American Old Time Song Lyrics: 46 Four Eleven Forty Four

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 46

Four-Eleven-Forty-Four.
Copyright, 1885, by Wm. A. Pond & Co.
Words by Edward Harrigan. Music by Dave Braham.

What am it keeps de darkies poor? Four, 'leven, forty-four;
Outside or inside of de door, never ax for more.
Money comes, de money goes four 'leven, forty-four;
Sun-flower sweeter than pink yellow rose, dar on de golden shore.

1st Dream.-
I had a dream about a Queen that swallowed up a Jack:
Oh, I played nine, took half a dime, de worst card in de pack;
A greasy deck, an' oats a peck, de old sow am a boar:
Oh, hold your own, leave me alone, it's four, 'leven, forty-four.

Chorus.
Four, 'leven, forty-four,
Four, 'leven, forty-four:
Play close down, oh, he's come to town,
Dal old-time gig he's knocking at de door.
Four, 'leven, forty-four,
Four, 'leven, forty-four,
Play close down, oh, he's come to town,
Dat old-time gig he's knocking at de door.

Who was it made de 'rithmatic? four, 'leven, forty-four;
What is it makes de niggers sick in de grocery store?
Lucky coon and lucky gal, four, 'leven. forty-tour;
Big fat Emma and slim-waisted Sal, dance on de old pine floor.

2d Dream.-
I took a nap in mammy's lap, last Sunday afternoon:
A big green flea, he said to me, "Be careful, Mr. Coon;
A rainy day, a load of hay, go get your trousers tore;"
Oh, hold your own, leave me alone, it's four, 'leven, forty-four.-Chorus.

What is it brines de darkies dar? fonr, 'leven. forty-fonr;
Hurry and put dem figures dar, holler hip hurrah;
Hazy moon and dusky coon, four, 'leven, forty-four; -
Silver lyre and gold tablespoon, how could you ax for more?

3rd Dream-
I lay me down just on de groun', oh, I fell in a doze;
A 'tater bug began to hug, and walk across my nose;
A Patrick's hat, a Thomas cat, a whistle and a snore:
Oh. hold your own, leave me alone, it's four, 'leven, forty-four.-Chorus.

What's most ambitions in a nig? four, 'leven, forty-fonr;
Oh, how he loves dat old-time gig, sticking in his craw;
Numbers born and numbers die, fonr, 'leven, forty-four;
Niggers straddle die gig in de sky, old Peter's at de door.

4th Dream.-
I had a dream dat I was mean, and wouldn't lend a cent;
A big black ant, he said, "You shan't go borrow what you lent;"
A weasel's eye, a piece of pie, right in a nigger's jaw;
Oh, hold your own, leave me alone, it's four, 'leven, forty-four.- Chorus.