American Old Time Song Lyrics: 19 The Boodle

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 19

THE BOODLE.
Copyright, 1884, by Wm. A. Pond & Co.
Written and sung by Edward Harrigan.

The little green note that keeps us afloat
Is equal to silver or gold;
It's made in D. C, oh, give it to me,
Oh, let it be new or be old!
Twill buy anything, it's jingle and ring
Is heard on the land or the sea;
"Wherever I go, I'd have you to know,
The boodle, the boodle for me!

Chorus.
The boodle, the boodle, the boodle, the boodle for me,
Hold on with a grip and never let slip,
The boodle, the boodle for me;
The boodle, the boodle, the boodle for me,
Hold on with a grip and never let slip,
The boodle, the boodle for me.

It's money, my boys, makes troubles and joys
In politics, church or the law;
The worship of gold a story quite old-
A story twice told is a bore.
Now soldiers may cry, we're willing to die
For liberty, joyous and free,
Oh. say to myself, I'm fond of the pelf,
The boodle, the boodle for me.-Chorus.
Some marry for love a sweet little dove,
They struggle for bread and a home!
I'll never tie up for bite nor a sup,
I'd rather much go it alone.
Oh, she must have dust, if marry I must,
To one thing I'd have her agree;
""When she is my wife, you bet your sweet life,
The boodle, the boodle for me.-Chorus.

The merchant and clerk, quite meager from work,
Go running at midday to dine;
They swallow their food in dyspeptic mood,
Then back to their desk upon time.
To figure and write 'till late in the night,
A rich man determined to be;
As plodding along, they sing the old song,
The boodle, the boodle for me.-Chorus.
Oh, twice two are four, and sometimes it's more
In banking on financial seas,
The reason is why we're all on the try,
A millionaire banker to be;
Each man wants it all, tho' man's wants are small,
In this glorious land of the free;
Oh, everywhere the cry's in the air,
The boodle, the boodle for me.-Chorus.