This is how I remember my Dad doing this song. I hope it helps.


Oh that boarding where I stay, it is turning my hair gray
the landlord is always full of beer
and the beds and the bugs are rented, by a room sweetly sented
By an old-fashioned pig pen in the rear
They have indian rubber pickles exercises on bicycles a dinner bell a gone you can't afford when the open up the gates they ride in on roller skates at that ole go hungry hash house where I board

Now the old fat cook calld Dutches beings the coffe in on crutches the buck wheat cake like spunges petrified the pies were old and gray the were tackled by a jay who went right out and commited sucide the eggs were boiled to match and if you touched them they would hatch the biskets were as hollow as a gord the pie were old and gray they were tackled by a jay who went right out and comitted sucide

Now we all sat down to supper and there were wiskers on the butter the the chees was at the beginning of the rine the sausages were fat marked, if you touch them it would bark and the prunes were dated 1849 the molasses was made of paint, if you smell it you will faint and the beef stake couldn't with any sword and yesterday was the time to trade a skeleton for a sign at that old go hungry hash house where I board.