Copyright. 1896. by Spaulding & Gray.
Words and Music by Geo Fuller Golden.
I thought I would write a great ballad,
For theme I selected the stars,
So I mixed up a romantic salad,
Of Jupiter, Venus and Mars;
I filled it full of expression,
And the poetry I did indite,
"Twas a credit to any profession,
So I said "I think its all right,"
But a great comedian read it o'er,
And said," My friend, I guess,
You've never written a song before,
This thing won't he a success.
They won't stand for this sort of staff at all,
So out of the window with it,
And hark to my mind, while I tell you the kind
Of a song to write for a hit."
"Rootie, tootie, rootie, tootie," those are the songs that go,
"Umti. umti, umti aye!" the hit of every show;
"Tootsie, wootsie," "Hutchie, cootchie." senseless, don't you know.
Written, wrotten, rotten written, down in rotten row.
I didn't believe what he told me,
Said I, he is jealous of me,
But afraid to come out with it boldly,
I published it on the Q. T.;
I then gave it to a great singer,
A lady with excellent voice,
And I told of the fame it would bring her,
How her audiences would rejoice;
The night she sang it, I sat in front,
She came upon the stage',
All dressed in white, to sing my song,
Said I, "She'll be a rage."
But the audience yelled, "Get off the boards,
We've stood for you too long,
Send on the girl who does the splits,
And sings that funny song;- Chorus.