I HAVE TO MAKE IT LAST ME ALL THE WEEK | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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If there ever lived a woman who detests extravagance It's my old girl, that I'm prepared to swear She'd skin a flint and spoil the knife while doing it in fact You couldn't find her equal anywhere She'll scarcely let me breathe for fear that I'll wear out my lungs And though she says that eating makes me stout There's one thing I must say for her, that is, when Sunday comes She always lest me have a good blow out. Chorus: But I'll have to make it last me all the week Last Sunady we'd a rabbit stew with rice The steam was absolutely something grand I had three helpings of it, 'twas so nice Then she gave me one potato, and one pea, all to myself Of the pudding half a currant and two plums Then as soon as I had finished, she said, 'Now then say your grace, You'll do very nicely till next Sunday comes.' I never have my haircut now, she says it costs too much So she's got a dodge which fair gives me the jumps She dips my head in water, lets my hair all freeze and then Gets the copper stick and knocks it off in lumps A little while ago she had three tickets for the Zoo So she took me and out youngest Little Fred And , thinking very likely I should want something to eat She handed me two monkey nuts and said, Chorus: 'Now you'll have to make those last you all the day If you want any more don't come to me So I'd one for lunch, for dinner had the shell And was going to have the other one for tea When I dropped it, then young Fred, he picked it up And said 'Mamma, as I'm hungry I can eat it I suppose?' She said, 'Eat it, t'isn't likley, you give that to your papa It's only monkeys eat such nuts as those.' Before I gave up single life, I'd saved just five and six And one day my father said to me, 'My son There's two things you can do, that's buy a gun and shoot yourself Or get married.' Now I wish I'd bought the gun On the day the fateful knot was tied as we came out of church A man dressed all in black came up to me Looked at me most intently, and then turning to my wife He said, 'You've done the trick again, I see.' Chorus: Now you'd better make him last you for a time It makes the sixth you've had, and he's not strong Look after him poor chap, for if you don't He'll want his measure taken before long. I looked at him, then whispered, 'Say, are you a friend of hers?' Said he, 'Not quite a friend, let me explain I'm her regular undertaker. I contract for all her work And I came to see when she'll want me again.' |
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Written by Worton David, L. St John and Harry Boden. Music by Bert Brantford - 1908 |
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Performed by Harry Ford (1877-1955) | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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