Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapaire - PM
Date: 05 May 06 - 06:42 PM

'Tis the song of Rapaire
Standing at the bar-room door
While the shameful midnight revel
Rages wildly as before.

MOAB, dear MOAB, come home with me, now!
The clock on the steeple strikes one;
You said you were coming straight home from the mall,
As soon as your shopping was done.
Our fire has gone out, our house is all dark,
And Stilly's been waiting since tea,
With poor brother Amos so sick in her arms,
And no one to help her but me.
Come home, come home, come home!
Please MOAB, dear MOAB come home.

cho: Hear the sweet voice of the child,
Which the night winds repeat as they roam!
Oh who could resist this most plaintive of cries,
"Please MOAB dear MOAB come home."

MOAB, dear MOAB, come home with me, now!
The clock on the steeple strikes two;
The night has grown colder and Amos is worse,
But he has been calling for you.
Indeed he is worse, Stilly says he will croak
Perhaps before morning shall dawn;
And this is the message she sent me to bring,
"Come quickly! Or he will be gone."
Come home, come home, come home!
Please MOAB, dear MOAB come home.


MOAB, dear MOAB, come home with me, now!
The clock on the steeple strikes three,
The house is so lonely, the hours are so long
For poor weeping Stilly and me.
Yes we are alone now; poor Amos has kicked
And gone to the realms down below,
And these were the very last words that he said
"I want to kiss MOAB goodnight."
Come home, come home, come home!
Please MOAB, dear MOAB come home.

                   --Songs of Temporary Worth (NY: Temporary   
                      Publications, 1877).