Copyright, 1893, by Frank Tousey.
Written by Chas. Williams. Composed by Felix McGlennon.
I've met some funny people-so, I guess, have all of you;
The folks who tell you what they would and what they wouldn't do-
For instance, in our boarding-school you'll find the sour-faced Miss,
Who never has been asked-but says she wouldn't take a kiss-
But I fancy that she would, I'm sure, I'm sure-
That is, if she only could, I'm sure, I'm sure.
When you hear a straight-laced Miss say she wouldn't take a kiss-
Well, it's ten to one she would, I'm sure.
When ma-in-law comes to the house, the timid married man
Devotes himself unto his wife In every way he can;
He's quite a model husband, while the good old girl is there,
And that he wouldn't part with her, he's quite prepared to swear.
Oh! but don't you think he would, I'm sure, I'm sure-
That is, If he only could, I'm sure, I'm sure,
Lose the ancient-looking face, which adorns his humble place-
Well, it's ten to one he would, I'm sure.
Then take the happy father on a cold December night,
He paces up and down the room, in garments, oh, so slight;
If you ask him, he'll tell you with a smile that looks like pain,
For all the world he wouldn't be a single man again-
But I fancy that he would, I'm sure, I'm sure-
That is, if he only could, I'm sure, I'm sure;
When he's shaking at the knees, and feels half inclined to freeze,
Be a single man he would, I'm sure.