Some people are full of excuses,
They'll talk 'til they're black in the face,
They'll try, if they're wrong to convince you ere long,
That they're right in this singular case.
They'll bear with your shower of abuses,
Their object is always to win,
With an innocent smile of the sickliest style,
They will wait till you've done, to begin.

Chorus: The game I own is Nap,
Well, the ace was on my lap,
What's the use of having bricks without the mortar?
Why, you'd have done the same
If you'd meant to win the game,
What, you wouldn't?
Well then, what I says you oughter!

You order a suit from a tailor,
You say that you'd like it to fit,
He'll remark, 'Yes, I know.'
'Very well.' and, 'Quite so.'
'The trousers? Yes tighter, a bit.'
They come back as wide as a sailor's,
So long that they trail on the ground;
When you mention the fact,
The tailor, with tact,
Says, there isn't a fault to be found.

Chorus: 'I'm certain, sir, you're wrong,
But if you think they're long
I'll try and make 'em just a wee bit shorter,
Then I'll take 'em in a bit
And if that don't make 'em fit,
Vell, there ma tear! S'help my Bob! It oughter!'

I've a friend with a taste for strong liquor,
Whether brandy, rum, whiskey or gin.
He can stand quite a lot,
Of twopenn'orths, all hot,
If you tell him that drinking's a sin.
With a voice by degrees getting thicker,
He will say, 'I am willing to fight,
Any man my own size,
Anyone who denies,
It's the truth when I say, I'm all right.'

Chorus: Then he'll swear that you are tight,
'Look at me now! I'm all right.
Nothing stronger's passed my lips than soda water,
Just you try it, now you should
It 'ud do the worlds of good,
You don't like it? Well, then whai say's, you oughter!'

Written and composed by Albert Chevalier & Alfred H. West
Performed by Albert Chevalier (1861-1923)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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