WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
or 'Take A Tract'
 
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Oh my dearest friends I must take you to task,
You're wicked you know, and dear friends, I must ask,
You'll try and be good, for most all whom I meet,
In this world are so wicked I'm forced to repeat:

Chorus: Where are you going?
What are you doing?
More wicked you're growing
Each day, that's a fact
My advice don't be scorning,
Pray take a warning,
Or if you'll not take that,
At least take a tract.

Last week from Victoria station I went
To Brighton, to visit some friends I was bent,
At a station a man got in who made me stare,
Till the train stopped again he did nothing but swear.

Spoken - I ventured to remonstrate with him and said, "My dear friend, do you know where you are going?" "Why certainly" he replied, "I am going to Brighton." "No," I exclaimed "you are going to Perdition" "Then,by Jove," he said, "I am in the wrong carriage." and he jumped out and as he ran across the bridge I leaned out of the window and called after him,

Chorus:

This morning I walked abroad about ten
And encountered a-group of well-known betting-men,
They would not take my tracts, they would not let me pass,
And one said he loved horses,but hated an ass.

Spoken - "Oh my dear friends" I said, "do you know that gambling leads to all sorts of misery? Are you not aware that it is bad to lay your money on horses?" "Oh yes" replied one of them, "especially bad horses." "Ah, my young friend" I said, "you are- tempted by an 'arch fiend." "Oh no you are wrong," he answered, "I was once tempted by an Archer and if you give me any more of your humbug you'll find yourself laying on the field in a minute.' with that one of the others tripped me up and ran off, and as I lay on my back I called after them:

Chorus:

Last evening as I in the Haymarket walked,
I met a young lady who stopped me and talked,
And begged if I'd time and conveniently could,
That I'd see her safe home as she lived in a wood.

Spoken - "Oh, St. John's. Oh! my dear girl." I said, "I cannot,but take a tract!" "Oh bosh!"she said, "take a cab." Then she recognised a young man whom she designated Charlie, and they both got into a two wheeled chariot together and as the young man put his arm round the waist of the maiden and kissed her, and as they drove away I hastened after the chariot and exclaimed,

Chorus:

 
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Written and composed by Arthur Lloyd - 1892
Performed by Arthur Lloyd (1840-1904)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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