Old Maid in the Garret

Now I've often heard it said from me father and me mother
That the going to a wedding is the making of another
Well, if this be so, I will go without a biddin'
O kind providence, won't you send me to a wedding

And its O dear me, how would it be,
If I die an old maid in a garret

Well, now there's my sister Jean, she's not handsome or good looking
Scarcely sixteen and a fella she was courting
Now she's twenty-four with a son and a daughter
Here am I at forty-four and I've never had an offer

I can cook and I can sew and I can keep the house right tidy
Rise up in the morning and get the breakfast ready
There's nothing in this wide world would make me half so cheery
As a wee fat man to call me his own deary

And its O dear me, how would it be,
If I die an old maid in a garret

Now come landsman, come townsman, come tinker or come tailor
Come fiddler or come dancer, come ploughboy or come sailor
Come rich man, come poor man, come fool or come witty
Come any man at all won't you marry out of pity

Well now I'm away home for there's nobody's heeding
Nobody's heeding to poor old Trudy's pleading
I'll hie the way home to my own lonesome garret
If I can't get a man, then I'll surely get a pirate.

ca2000. Songs that Ought NOT to be Sung - OR How to be guaranteed to
offend at least one person at a Bardic Circle. - OR How to clear a
fire of un-wanted prudes. By Lord Gyric of Otershaghe, Kingdom of
Ealdormere. Society for Creative Anacronym


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