The old maid of our village used to be Eliza Brown
I married her, and made my life a wreck
Upon our wedding day, I slipped, and as I tumbled down
I absolutely wished I'd broke my neck
She's full of fads and fancies - keeps a small menagerie
She feeds the cats with cream in our best cups
She's got eleven 'Bow-Wows', and the whole work falls on me
I have to chew the biscuit for the pups
Chorus: I've had enough of Eliza Brown,
'Liza Brown, 'Liza Brown
I've had enough of Eliza Brown, I wonder I'm her survivor
When the doctor calls he always ties her down
Ties her down, ties her down
If the undertaker's man ever calls round with his van
I hope he brings a big screw-driver.
I only found this out the day that I made her my wife
She's got an eye that seems to pierce you through
Her very look is twice as sharp as our old carving-knife
A glance from her is just like cutting you
But, oh! her fads and fancies, and her new tea-total drinks
To test them for her is my daily toil
Not only do I have to get down 'reds' and 'blues' and 'pinks'
I have to drink them while they're on the boil.
I'm very pleased to say that she is always having fits
And lately she's been very, very bad
Last week she chopped our home into a thousand little bits
Which absolutely proves she's raving mad
All through her fancies and her fads, she fancies I am dead
And what do you think I've done a row to save?
I've dug a hole in our back-yard, in which I've made my bed
Where she nightly does a war-dance round my grave.
|Written and composed by Joseph Tabrar - 1908|
|Performed by Tom Costello (1863-1843)|