Whenever a fellow goes in for a wife,
And throws up all Bachelor joys,
For the trouble and strife of a double geared life
Oh, then we should kick up a noise,
With kettle and drum and all that counts some
Confusion confounded with din,
Sledge hammer and saw, and a jolly hoorah
For the purpose of breaking him in.
When his woman goes dead, and he dares to get wed
To a younger and fresher than he,
Right off and so often, his heart he must soften,
Or dance to the high major key
Of a riotous thing, with horse fiddle and gong
A skillet or two and a Bell,
Tin -- buckets and fun, with a pistol and gun,
And the damnable roaring conch shell.
And if when we meet, he refuses to treat,
By jove we will keep him in mind,
Each wedding that comes, we will muster our drums
And give him young Hell as we grind
All our music so well, with a hoop and a yell
Confusion confounded and din
Horse-fiddle and saw, and a jolly hoorah
For the purpose of breaking him in. |