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Composer:
Also known as:
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Incipit: 511121111234233533132171765
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Lyrics:
Behold in me a wretched man,
Quite broken down by woe,
I've lost my wife and cannot find
Her anywhere I go;
At first she robb'd me of my heart
And now she's flown from me,
And taken all my furniture,
Wherever can she be?
chorus:
Perhaps she's on the railway
With a swell so fair,
Perhaps she's up in a balloon,
Flying thro' the air,
Perhaps she's dead, perhaps alive,
Perhaps she's on the sea;
Perhaps she's gone to Brigham Young
A Mormonite to be.
She read so much of Mormonites,
Of nothing else she'd talk,
And with a sanctified young chap
Each day she used to walk;
She said he was a Mormon saint
From far across the sea,
I have not seen her for a week,
Wherever can she be?
She can't respect the marriage vows,
that faithfully she swore,
I only hope her Mormon spouse
Has fifty wives or more;
I hope he'll thrash her ev'ry night
when he comes home to tea,
I hope they'll always row and fight
Wherever they may be.
I hope she'll have a lot of hungry,
Squalling brats to keep,
I hope they'll cry all night all night,
And never let her go to sleep,
I hope her chimneys all may smoke,
Her lodgers never pay,
And German bands and organ men
Annoy her all the day.
If she is in the railway train
I hope that it will smash;
If up in a balloon I hope
She'll fall out with a crash;
If on the road to Salt Lake, then,
I hope she may get drowned,
Then I will get another wife,
And quickly, I'll be bound.
Other arrangements are found by Charles McCarthy or C. Hunt.
