American Old Time Song Lyrics: 21 Dennis Gradys Hack

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 21

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Copyright. 1886, by Wm. A. Pond & Co.
Words by Edward Harrigan. Music by Dave Braham.

Last Sunday morning early,
Tom Quin and Mary Haley,
Pat Brennan and Pat Daley,
Meself and my boy, Jack;
Ould nobby Denny Grady,
In livery coat and cady.
He drove each gent and lady
In his yellow painted hack.

It's whoa, my pony!
'Glang, Napolean!
He is a pace the fastest on the track;
It's whoa, my dandy!
'Glang, Napolean
He'll beat two-forty
Pulling Denny Grady's hack.

Oh! when we crossed the ferry,
All feeling very merry
From drinking port and sherry,
The title was rather slack;
Like playful little children,
The sea-gulls, by the million,
They flew round in cotillion
As we sat in Grady's hack.-Chorus.

We reached our destination,
The horse in prespiration,
He took a long vacation
'Way out in Hackensack;
While we did gather flowers,
Unmindful of the hours,
Until the falling showers,
Oh! they drove us in the hack.-Chorus.

The road was dark and dreary,
And we were worn and weary,
A little over leery
When we were driving back;
'Twas there we struck a bowlder,
The horse fell on his shoulder.
The wheel came off and rolled us
Out of Denny Grady's back.-Chorus.

Such swearing and such talking,
High kicking and fast walking,
A cursing old Weehawken
Along the railroad track;
Tongue-lashing Denny Grady,
His livery coat and cady.
All wisbing him in hades
Wid his yellow-painted hack.-Chorus.
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