|THE GOBLINS IN THE CHURCHYARD|
I went down to the Rose and Crown stopped there till I got tight
The Potman came and turned me out, I bade my friends 'Good Night'
The nearest way home was to go right through the old church-yard
No other chap would come with me, I thought this rather hard
Whilst walking 'midst the old grave stones I heard a noise close by
I turned, Oh Lor, a dozen ghosts in white met my eye
My hair stood up, my knees gave way, they filled me with alarm
For each ghost had a coffin lid tucked underneath his arm.
Chorus: Some of the ghosts were short and some of the ghosts were tall
There they sat in a ghostly row on top of the church-yard wall
They all gave a loud Ha, Ha, they all gave a loud Ho, Ho
I tried to wish them all 'Good night' but they would not let me go.
One of the ghosts began to speak, down on my knees I sank
'I am a cabman's ghost,' said he, 'But now I'm off the rank.
I never minded rain or snow, I laughed at mud and slush
Each fare that I picked up I used to have upon the 'rush'
And if they dared to grumble, why, I used to cuss and swear
And once and only once I charged a man the proper fare
I even touched my hat to him, no 'extra' did I crave
But when I come to think of it, I can't rest in my grave.
Another ghost commenced, 'Once on a time I would get tight
I turned 'tea-total' and in fact a staunch 'blue ribbonite'
I used to drink 'tea-total' drinks (The other ghosts here laughed)
But I was settled on that ginger beer they sell on draught
They held an inquest on me, such a course was only right
The Jury gave their verdict in that I deserved it quite
Now when you start to wear the 'blue' and give the booze the 'sack'
It won't be long before your friends will have to wear the black.'
A railway servants ghost was there, who soon began to speak
'I used to earn the splendid sum of eighteen bob a week
They made us work like negroes, and we could not do a 'shirk'
The workhouse was before us, when we got to old to work
One day the foreman told me that I was to have a rise
I fell down in a fit, brought on by wonder and surprise
The shock had been too much for me, for help they quickly ran
But when they raised me up I was as dead as good Queen Anne.'
A lawyer's ghost stood on the wall and then commenced to state
'I rise to plead the noble cause, the cause of six and eight.'
The other ghosts get mad with rage, would not hear him at all
They threw their coffin lids at him and knocked him off the wall
What followed next I can't remember, somehow very well
Next day when I awoke I found myself locked in a cell
I went before the Magistrate, on me he fixed his gaze
'Found in a church-yard beastly drunk, we'll give you fourteen days.'
|Original words and music by M. Cavanagh & Walter Hastings - 1890|
|Performed by Henri Clark (1840-1905)|