Transcribed from the sheet music images at The Lester S. Levy Collection of Sheet Music.

THE TALE OF A SHIRT
(Words, W. W. Brackett. Music, Lottie L. Meda.
New York: M. Witmark & Sons, 1904.
"As sung with tremendous success by 'Billy' Brackett [the man with the red hair]".)

There was a man. His name was Burke. He was a friend of mine.
He had four lovely bright red shirts that hung on his clothesline.
Not satisfied with all his wealth, what do you think Burke did?
He took a trip to Butchertown, bought a goat just for a kid.
He tied him up in his backyard where the shirts were hung in line.
The goat got loose and ate them all just as the clock struck nine.
This made my friend Burke good and mad. to kill him then he swore,
So he tied the goat to a railroad track satisfied he'd be no more.

CHORUS: Say au revoir, but not goodbye.
This goat was wise and too smart to die.
He struggled and tugged with might and main,
Coughed up a red shirt, and flagged the train.

Now when Burke saw the goat's cute trick, he quick said, "I'll forgive.
I'll take that goat right home again, for he deserves to live."
Burke had a silk umbrella. 'Twas the apple of his eye.
This goat thought it was good to eat, so he ate it on the sly.
Burke found it out and swore again it was time to make him stop.
Says he, "I'll take him to some place where I have got the drop."
So he pushed him off the Call Café. 'Twas eighteen stories high.

CHORUS: Say au revoir, but not goodbye.
This goat was wise, though he could not fly.
He gave one cry--it was a beaut--
Coughed up the umbrella, made a parachute.

Once more to dear old home, sweet home, Burke took this goat again.
Two times he'd tried to kill the beast. His efforts were in vain.
He ate the paint from Burke's front door. From his bed, he drank the spring.
And ate Burke out of house and home. He did not leave a thing.
Burke fed him tons of Paris green, six sticks of dynamite.
He threw him in the ocean deep, but goat returned all right.
The fatal day at last came round though that goat knew a lot.
He wandered out on Market Street and looked into the slot.

CHORUS: Say au revoir, this time goodbye.
His time was up. He was doomed to die.
The gripman yelled and rang the bell.
Car hit the poor goat, now he's in ----.