POOR WILLIE

T'was a dark and stormy night
And the moon was shining bright
And the flowers, they were drooping in the mud,
When the doctors, they decided
That to save my darling child,
They'd have to stop the circulation of his blood.

So, they dipped his darling head
In a pot of boiling lead,
And they laid my little Willy down to rest.
But the robbers came at night,
And they came without a light,
And they stole the mustard plaster off his chest.

No more, Little Brat,
To tease the pussy-cat,
No more between his teeth
To pull it's tail ...
No more to rub its nose
On the red-hot kitchen stove,
'Cause my Darling Willy's gone and kicked the pail.
[Spoken] Poor Willy!