Here I offer a simplified variant of "Willie" (as I knew the title), which I learned from my father sometime in the 40's. The version I learned is short and much less embellished, but, in my view, the lyrics make a better fit with the melody as it was taught to me.

Oh you could tell that he was dieing by the freckles on his breath,
And the flowers they lay drooping in the mud (bass chorus, In the mud)
And the doctors all declared that to save poor Willie's life,
They would have to stop the circulating blood (chorus: stop the blood)
Now no more upon the mat will he tease poor pussy cat,
No more between his teeth he'll bite her tail (Chorus: bite her tail)
And no more he'll stick his nose 'gainst that red-hot iron stove,
For our poor old Willie's gone and kicked the pail (Chorus: Kicked the pail)