THE BURIAL-CLUB.
(U.S. Version)
 
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My old woman one day says to me,
'A thought has popped into my head—
How hard up our young ones would be,
If supposing as how you was dead!'
Says I, 'Old gal, tip us your tin,
You shall never be hard up for grub
For to-morrow I'll muster some tin,
And belong to the Burial-Club.'

Tol lol de rol, etc

I arose up next morning at nine,
Round rny neck put my Sunday cravat;
To my boots gave a jolly good shine,
In the water-pail dipped my silk hat.
Just a dollar I had to a cent;
With brickdust I my cheeks gave a rub--
Then to the committee I went,
And entered the Burial-Club.

Tol lol de rol, etc

Then I sent my old woman one day
(As a queer thought came into my head)
To the committee, and told her to say
As how her poor husband was dead
She went, and she pitched them a tale,
With onions her eyes gave a rub;
So they gave her some cash on the nail,
So we chiselled the Burial-Club.

Tol lol de rol, etc

We next sent some notes to our friends,
My wife and I shoved them about—
With, 'Mister John Johnson intends
On giving a jolly blow-out!'
We'd a lot of pig's-feet and some bread,
Six gallons of soup in a tub;
In fact, they were very well fed,
At the expense of the Burial-Club!

Tol lol de rol, etc

I served out the soup in good style,
To show how genteel I had been;
And the old woman showed 'em, the while,
How fast she could put away gin!
We ate one another, almost
And after we'd finished the grub,
The old woman gave us a toast:
'Here's long life to the Burial-Club!'

Tol lol de rol, etc

We had a bass-fiddle and life,
A banjo, and cracked tambourine;
But, while dancing, I noticed my wife
Steal off with a fellow called Green!
She told me, right bang to my head,
She wished I'd been choked by the grub,
For she'd marry him when I was dead,
With the blunt from the Burial-Club.

Tol lol de rol, etc

We kept up the dancing all night,
Till we couldn't dance any more;
And at last we were put in a fright,
By a thundering knock at the door
'When a man in black popped in his head,
Like the devil in search of his grub.
With, 'I've come for the man that's dead,
I belong to the Burial-Club!'

Tol lol de rol, etc

Our party rushed out of the room,
After breaking the tables and chairs;
The old woman snatched up the broom,
And knocked Mister Devil down-stairs!
We were both taken in by the police,
And locked up all night without grub;
And then got a twelve-month apiece,
For defrauding the Burial-Club!

Tol lol de rol, etc
 
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From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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