It won’t last very very long or The Cinderella 1902
Lyrics RP Weston Music Frank W Carter

Music Hall Performers Harry Champion


One fine night I toddled to a dance, what the people call a 'cinderella'
I wore a button-hole, and the girls upon my soul
Said I was a 'pretty little feller'
Soon to me came Arabella Brown, pulling up her railway sock
'Oh Mr Winkle-pip, do have a waltz, it's just on twelve o' clock.

So it won't last very, very long
It won't last very, very long
Round we went till I said, 'Whoa!
They'll be trouble in a tick, I know
There's buttons on my trousers, and the pin's not over strong
Run away, Miss Brown, I must go and sit down
And it won't last very, very long.'

Late last night - oh talk about a fright,
Taking off my clobber I had just been
I was dying with the pip - went to go to 'kip'
Soon I heard a struggle in the dust-bin
Up I shoved my window in a jiff, saw a tabby cat outside
Chasing another one around the yard, 'If that's your game,' I cried.

It won't last very, very long
It won't last very, very long
Off I went and got my gun
Shot one bullet in his hot-cross-bun
Tom said, 'Now you've got a bull's eye
My bell goes ding-ding-dong
You've done quite enough to my little bit of fluff
So it won't last very, very long.'

Yesterday I went and sold my horse
Really ought to took him to the knacker's
For to make him go I always had to sew
On his tail a blooming lot of crackers
I white-washed him out in the yard
Put sticks in his ears somehow
They looked like horns, so I sold him for
A good milking cow. But,

It won't last very, very long
It won't last very, very long
The rain came down, the white-wash dripped
The old milk man a big pail gripped
His old gal said, 'What a funny cow.
Something must be wrong.'
Then cried, 'I suppose it's an overflow of milk
And it won't last very, very long.'

Last week, straight, I went and won a pig
Got it in a raffle for a tanner
I didn't want to roam, quickly took it home
And gave it to the old woman, Hannah
Friday we made jelly of its feet
Saturday we fried its head
I made a bacca-pouch of its ears
Then my old woman said,

It won't last very, very long
It won't last very, very long
All the kids they turn quite pale
When we wallop them with that pig's tail
Off its waistcoat of a night time
When baby starts his song
We cut him off a button for an indiarubber teat
So it won't last very, very long.'