You may laugh 'til you haven't any breath.
People nowadays seem to think it very funny
When they hear of a violent death.
Poor little Solomon Levi
To heaven has got a pass.
He searched 'round the house the other night
To find a big escape of gas.
Refrain:
More work for the undertaker.
Another little job for the casket maker.
At the local cemetery they've
Been very, very busy on a brand new grave:
Reuben he was standing on Broadway.
Of cable cars he'd heard an awful lot.
He wanted to see how the old thing worked
So he looked down in the slot.
A car came up behind him.
He didn't hear the bell.
The bump of the car changed his address
From Broadway down to...
Refrain...A MESSSAGE BY CABLE.
A boy named Jack was playing football.
He was what you call a center rush.
They picked him up in pieces when
It ended in a crush.
His father quickly sent for
What was left of Jack.
When he opened the box he suddenly exclaimed,
"Why, they've only sent a quarter back!"
Refrain...FOOTBALL...AND THAT'S ALL.
"More Work for the Undertaker" is this week’s Music Hall song, and a more perfect song I couldn’t find for Halloween. The song is sung in this recording by Daniel W. Quinn who was considered one of the first major stars of the American recording industry.
This rather macabre and grim song predates this recording. It had a long life in the Nineteenth Century as a British music hall favorite. As was often the case, the song found its way to America, where, as always, it was Americanized with different lyrics. The newer lyrics are those printed above and those you’ll hear in Quinn’s recording.
The original version seems to have been by Fred W. Leigh with words by “Burton and Brooks.” The British Music Hall version concerned the dangerous misadventures of a youth named Sambo (yes, Sambo—fill in the blanks). The refrain of “another little job for the casket maker” seems to have originally been “another little job for the tombstone maker.” Like all of these popular songs which pre-date major efforts at recording, their original versions all differ slightly.
2 comments:
When I was a small lad - in about 1945, my dad used to sing a song to me which he had learnt from his father - who in his youth and early married life used to visit the music halls in Manchester. The song was called "Poor Old Solomon Snoozer"
The lyrics went as follows:
Poor Old Solomon Snoozer,
He behaved like an ass.
He got a lighted taper
to find an escape of gas
BANG
Another little job for the undertaker,
Another little job for the tombstone maker.
At the local cemetry
They're all getting busy with a brand new grave.
For Solomon, has snuffed it,
They drew his Club Money this morning,
An no more he'll play the drum
For he's gone to Kingdom Come,
And they drew his Club Money
this morning.
When I was a small lad - in about 1945 - my dad used to sing a song to me that he had learnt from his father. My grandfasther had, as a young man, visited the music halls in Manchester - this was one of the songs that he, apparently, learnt from there. The song was called "Poor Old Solomon Snoozer" and the lyrics went as follows:
Poor Old Solomon Snoozer,
He behaved like an ass.
He lit a lighted taper,
To find an escape of gas
BANG
Another little job for the undertaker,
Another little job for the tombstone maker,
At the local cemetry
They're all getting ready with a brand new grave,
For Solomon,
Has snuffed it.
They drew his Club Money this morning,
And no more he'll play the drum, For he's gone to Kingdom Come,
And they drew his Club Money this morning.
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