WE TOSSED UP WHO SHOULD KILL HIM | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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I once bought a bird, a very fine bird, it was near last Christmas time The man at the market took a big oath, it was tender, young and prime When the time came round to kill that bird, at each murderer he flew We were all afraid to face him, so this is what we had to do. Chorus: We tossed up who should kill him and the lot fell to me So I came with a chopper, and a gun, and a knife And a two inch rope to end his life But I had to give in after two days strife That was in 1893. Ha, Ha, you bet, he's not dead yet. There's a man I know who is very hard up, you may think my story bosh One shirt he possessed, but that one shirt he wouldn't send off to the wash 'With the Lib'rals in, trade must revive, then another I'll buy,' said he But his trade got worse, so he at last took it to the launderee, and Chorus: They tossed up who should wash it, and Sal Jones got the job And she scrubbed it with Sunlight, quicklime and clay Two months she rubbed it night and day It has killed ten girls - ther's one dying today They started in 1893, ha, ha, you bet. It's not clean yet 'Twas a lion tamer, such a very brave man, not a braver could you see Till once at a house he was asked if he'd nurse a baby on his knee 'Twas a wriggly kid, and he answered, 'Thanks', ditto said every man Some one had to nurse it, so at last they proposed an artful plan. Chorus: They tossed up who should nurse it, and they palmed it on him When he got it, his face changed to ghastly tints Till something occurred, and they saw him wince Then he fainted, and he's been in a fit ever since That was in 1893, ha, ha, you bet he's not cured yet. There once was a Bill, a wonderful Bill, and Home Rule BIll was its name To divide old Ireland from England's rule was its artful little game Mr Gladstone promised anything if they'd only pass that Bill As it passed the Commons the Unionists thought, well, someone that Bill must kill Chorus: They tossed up who should kill it, and it fell to the Lords So they pounced on the Bill and they called it muck For their services I wish them luck For they gave that wretched old Bill the chuck That was in 1893, ha ha, you bet it's not passed yet. |
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Written and composed by E. W. Rogers - 1894 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Performed by Walter Munroe (d. 1914) | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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