SHE NEVER DOES THAT TO ME
 
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I know a young lady who dotes on her pets
So much that all of her friends she forgets
I am supposed now to be her sweetheart
But a little dog makes me with jealousy smart
She takes him and fondles him, brim full of bliss
While I sit there hungering just for a kiss
She sits by the fire sometimes for a nap
And places that ugly young cur on her lap.

Chorus: Why doesn't she do that to me?
I could appreciate it
She smothers him simply with 'darlings' and 'dears'
She kisses his nose and scratches his ears
I wish I were a dog, when he dozes on her lap
She says he's the sweetest young thing in the world
But she never says that to me.


Chorus 2: Why doesn't she do that to me?
I could appreciate it
She smothers him simply with 'darlings' and 'dears'
She kisses his nose and scratches his ears
I wish I were a dog, when he dozes on her lap
She says he's nicer than chocolate creams
But she never says that to me.


Then she has a wicked and vicious old cat
I'm mad with envy when she cuddles that
She must be wanting in taste, you'll agree
When she turns up her nose at a fellow like me
She says that he's pretty, and if that's the case
She p'haps wants a man with a pussy-cat face
I nearly go wild, and always protest
To see Thomas curled up in joy on her breast.

Chorus: Why doesn't she do that to me?
I could appreciate it
She feeds him on tit-bits which she cooks alone
While I am content to gaze at the bone
I wish I were a puss, when her doting ways I see
She tickles her chin with the hair on his face
But she never does that to me.


Chorus 2: Why doesn't she do that to me?
I could appreciate it
She feeds him on tit-bits which she cooks alone
While I am content to gaze at the bone
I wish I were a puss, when her doting ways I see
She cuddles that tom-cat until he can't breath
But she never does that to me.


And also this curious young lady has got
One small canary, which beats all the lot
Never such nonsense have ever you heard
If I take her some sweets she gives all to the bird
Should it make a noise she is filled with delight
And at her dear finger she loves it to bite
The best of all food she give it to eat
And all day she calls it 'Her pretty sweet-sweet'

Chorus: Why doesn't she do that to me?
I could appreciate it
She smoothes down its feathers, and often I swear
I'm asked to imagine I am not there
I wish I were a bird, could I but belong to she
She takes it upstairs in her bedroom to sing
But she never does that to me.

Chorus 2: Why doesn't she do that to me?
I could appreciate it
She smoothes down its feathers, and often I swear
I'm asked to imagine I am not there
I wish I were a bird, could I but belong to she
She lets it look on while she's getting undressed
But she never does that to me.
 
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Written and composed by George Arthurs & Kenneth Lyle (1903)
Performed by George Lashwood (1863-1942)
 
More George Lashwood
 
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