George Robey (1869 – 1954)
The wind it blowed, the snow it snowed, the lightning it did light 
The rain came down as usual, and, brethren, well it might;
For had not darling papa come home sober that same night,
A thing he had never done before!

It took us all our time to hold the bulldog Patsy Burke;
And mama tore her hair and started raving like a Turk,
When papa calmly told us that he'd been and done some work,
A thing he had never done before! 

'Twas a thing he had never done before, 
Though he'd often been to prison to be sure;
It killed our sister Ruth,
When he went and spoke the truth,
A thing he had never done before. 

That very same papa was overjoyed last Sunday morn,
He'd never been so jolly since the day that I was born,
For he got his only pair of trousers out of pawn,
A thing he had never done before!

When mama saw that papa was a-treading virtue's path,
She said, Salvation Army-like, 'Oh! what a soul he hath!'
She sold the clock for fourpence and then went and had a bath,
A thing she had never done before!
The end