THIS IS A Chorus SONG.
Copyright, 1895, by Frank Deane & Co.
Written and Composed by Harry Dacre.
I went to a smoking Concert, something like a week or two ago,
There I heard a silver tenor singer; but, oh! he was too slow;
Next we had pianoforte solos, which made us all feel bad:
Then a croupy drone from a broken baritone, which drove us raving mad;
At last I rose and said, "Now, then, my boys,
We'll change this scene and make a little noise;
I'll sing one song, and when the Chorus comes,
You'll all join in to prove that you're my chums":-For
This is a Chorus song, sing it along with me:
Don't be shy at it, just you try at it. easy as can be;
Lift up the roof, my boys, let it go loud and strong;
Louder yet-don't forget this is a Chorus song.
Everybody caught my Chorus, everybody voted it was good:
Even when the Concerting was over, we woke the neighborhood;
People rose in sorrow and in anger from out their cosy beds:
Furious females quickly emptied sundry pails of soap suds on our heads;
Policeman came and said this was a sin;
Just dry up now, or else I'll run you in:
We all closed 'round and got him in a ring,
Then, with a will, we all began to sing:-Now- Chorus.
Sunday is a dry occasion. Missus said just come take me to church,
So at last I listened to persuasion, the parson's name was Birch;
Talk about a dry and dusty sermon, he'd make a dust man weep:
Missus thought it fine, and it must have been divine, it drove me fast asleep;
I slept right through, some say I did a snore -
The parson said "Hymn number thirty-four; (
The organ played. I thought I'd got a call:
The wife had fits when I Commenced In bawl:- For-Chorus.