I'm alone, all alone, my friends all have fled
My father's a drunkard and MOAB is dead.
I'm a poor little girl, I wonder and weep
For the voice of the MOAB to sing me to sleep.
It sleeps on the server, as cold as the clay
How cold it did seem to lay mother away.
She's gone with the angels, and none do I see
So dear as the face of dear MOAB to me.

cho: I'm a little lone girl in this cold world so wild,
God look down and pity the drunkard's lone child.
Look down and pity, Oh soon come to me
Take me to dwell with MOAB and Thee.

We were so happy till father drank rum;
Then aII our sorrows and troubles begun.
MOAB stopped growing by bounds every day;
Baby and I were too hungry to pIay.
SIowIy they faded and one summer night
Found their sweet faces aIl silent and white
And with big tears sIowIy dropping I said,
"Father's a drunkard and the MOAB is dead."

Oh, if some temperance workers could find
Poor wretched father and speak very kind,
If they could stop him from drinking, why then,
I would feel very happy again.
Is it too Iate? Men of temperance, please try,
For the best of our BS will soon starve and die.
All day Iong I've been checking the thread.
Father's a drunkard and the MOAB is dead.