Title: American Old Time Song Lyrics
Subject: Traditional & Folk Music
Author: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk
Keywords: Old time music, American, oldtimey, bluegrass

I Was On It - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
I WAS ON IT. Written by Wal Pink. Arranged by Edmund Forman. 
There's been a lot of fan outside, and folks have had a hunt To catch a horse that made a bolt clean through an oil-shop front, The people laughed until I thought their sides would all have cracked, And I should have laughed myself at the mad horse, but for the fact 
Chorus. That I was on it, I was on it! Holding on with might and main As he went through the window-pane; He got a licking, started kicking. And threw me in a barrel full of paraffin oil. 
This morning I was gasping, but was fairly "stony broke," I saw two men inside a ' pub, " and thus to them I spoke: "There's such a row outside, there'll be somebody killed I fear," They rushed outside to see it, but they left their pot of beer-
Chorus. And I was on it, I was on it! Blew the froth from off the top, Swallowed every blessed drop; They came back swearing, for beer preparing. But found I'd shifted all the lot and took my hook. 
Last night to me a jailer of his prison duties said A lot of things-he introduced the oakum, skilly, bread! "And now, " said he, "shall I explain the treadmill? " I said "No!" I understand the treadmill, for not very long ago 
Chorus. I was on it, I was on it! I only stole a pound of lard, Still they gave me "six months hard!" The bread and skilly drove me silly, While the treadmill brought my bunions up like hard-boiled eggs. 
I had to journey to Boulogne, so got on board a boat, We started off and, when we'd been some fourteen hours afloat, I called the steward, said, "I s'pose we'll soon be at Boulogne?" "Boulogne, " said he, "you most be mad, this boat goes to Hong Kong! 
Chorus. And I was on it, I was on it! Stuck on board an ocean liner, Off, away I went to China'; When I got there, found it hot there, I had to live on bird-nest soup and boiled bow-wow. 
I went to see my girl one day, I thought her dad was out, But up he came behind me and he gave me such a clout; He opened wide the front street-door and, as I turned to go. He very gently lifted up his hobnailed boot, and oh! 
Chorus. I was on it, I was on it; My feet scarcely touched the floor, As I went flying through the door-Oh, he had got a large-sized trotter. And knew the place to put it where I feel it most.