Once I was a lady-killer,
All the girls rushed after me;
Once I had a darling sweetheart,
I loved her and she loved me.
But she met a lanky soldier,
On one frosty summer morn;
Ever since I've been a-singing,
Where the Devil has she gone, gone, gone:

Chorus: She's bolted with a soldier and she won't come back,
He's six feet four in the stand back corps,
With a double barrelled blunderbus he's on my track,
I shall wake up a dead'un in the morning.

I used to spend my hard-earned savings,
From expence I never shrunk;
For the game that she loved dearly,
Was getting paraletic drunk.
Many a time I've pawned my whiskers,
For to get her out on bail;
For we swore we'd live together,
Int the workhouse or in gaol, gaol, gaol.


I never thought she'd go and leave me,
With a soldier for to flirt;
For she stole the blooming ticket;
Of my only flannel shirt.
Shall I ever more behold her?
Shall we ever, ever wed?
What have I to live longer?
Don't I wish that I was dead, dead, drunk!

Written, composed and performed by Tom Woottwell (1865-1941)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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