WE TOSSED UP WHO SHOULD KILL HIM
 
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I once bought a bird, a very fine bird, it was near last Christmas time
The man at the market took a big oath, it was tender, young and prime
When the time came round to kill that bird, at each murderer he flew
We were all afraid to face him, so this is what we had to do.

Chorus: We tossed up who should kill him and the lot fell to me
So I came with a chopper, and a gun, and a knife
And a two inch rope to end his life
But I had to give in after two days strife
That was in 1893. Ha, Ha, you bet, he's not dead yet.


There's a man I know who is very hard up, you may think my story bosh
One shirt he possessed, but that one shirt he wouldn't send off to the wash
'With the Lib'rals in, trade must revive, then another I'll buy,' said he
But his trade got worse, so he at last took it to the launderee, and

Chorus: They tossed up who should wash it, and Sal Jones got the job
And she scrubbed it with Sunlight, quicklime and clay
Two months she rubbed it night and day
It has killed ten girls - ther's one dying today
They started in 1893, ha, ha, you bet. It's not clean yet


'Twas a lion tamer, such a very brave man, not a braver could you see
Till once at a house he was asked if he'd nurse a baby on his knee
'Twas a wriggly kid, and he answered, 'Thanks', ditto said every man
Some one had to nurse it, so at last they proposed an artful plan.

Chorus: They tossed up who should nurse it, and they palmed it on him
When he got it, his face changed to ghastly tints
Till something occurred, and they saw him wince
Then he fainted, and he's been in a fit ever since
That was in 1893, ha, ha, you bet he's not cured yet.


There once was a Bill, a wonderful Bill, and Home Rule BIll was its name
To divide old Ireland from England's rule was its artful little game
Mr Gladstone promised anything if they'd only pass that Bill
As it passed the Commons the Unionists thought, well, someone that Bill must kill

Chorus: They tossed up who should kill it, and it fell to the Lords
So they pounced on the Bill and they called it muck
For their services I wish them luck
For they gave that wretched old Bill the chuck
That was in 1893, ha ha, you bet it's not passed yet.
 
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Written and composed by E. W. Rogers - 1894
Performed by Walter Munroe (d. 1914)
 
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