WE'RE MOVING
 

Why wasn't I buried before I got wedded?
That's where the laugh comes in you'll say.
Why didn't I marry myself to old Harry.
And live down below, right out of the way?
There would be no jawing, or mother-in-lawing,
I might find it warm, of course very soon;
But there is one blessing - to some, p'haps distressing -
Down with Old Nick there's no shooting the moon.

Spoken - But my wife wouldn't be happy there. We're in a house one day
and out the next and
-

Chorus: We dine upon the landing, we sleep upon the floor
And breakfast now we never have because we're up at four,
The wife is shouting Mary Ann, for boxes, cord, or twine,
Or make haste, John, you know the van will be round here at nine.

We're up in the morning, before light is dawning,
Because when moving there's so much to do;
And when we start knocking and passages blocking,
The cat she goes mad and hides up the flue.
The children are squalling, the missis is bawling,
The servant girl's face is greasy and black,
She does a snivel, whilst I, a poor devil,
Slide down the stairs with a bed on my back.

Chorus:

We always are muddled, sometimes a bit troubled,
She of my bosom is bathing in tears,
A glass it gets broken, of course, that's a token;
There's no luck for us for seven long years.
My shirts in the packing get mixed with the blacking,
In the coal scuttle I find my best suit;
Then there is sighing, and sobbing and crying:
And I'm a wretch and an unfeeling brute.

Spoken - Just because I tell her we shall be had up for hawking furniture
about the streets without a license.


Chorus:

We first lived at Clapham, and then went to Chatham,
From Chatham we moved up to Oxford Street West;
And then the next quarter was spent in Bayswater,
But there, don't you know, 'twas like all the rest.
We've had rooms called attics and had the rheumatics,
And down in the kitchen we've pal'd with the cats;
And had such nice diggings in Peabody's buildings;
Then lived, you must know, for three weeks upon flats.

Spoken - She won't pay rent, she says it's much cheaper to move.

Chorus:

 
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Written and composed by Harry Randall - 1883
Performed by James Fawn (1850-1923)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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