Father’s got the sack from the waterworks

Our house is like a vessel in distress upon the sea.
To call it "home sweet home" it doesn't quite appeal to me.
The baby's got the whooping cough, my sisters off her chump, 
And mothers got what I have heard of lots of people call the hump. 
The bakers got the last two bob that she had in her purse, 
The landlords put the brokers in, and now to make things worse,

Father's got the sack from the water works
Thro' smoking of his little cherry briar.
The foreman Joe has told him he must go,
Because he might set the water all afire.
[Twice]

Our Thomas cat has left us, looking very, very ill; 
It's all because we can't afford to pay the cats-meat bill.
The chickens in the garden cannot stand upon their legs;
If chickens don't get food, you can't expect them laying eggs. 
The goldish that we used to have had disappeared this morn;
Poor father tried to borrow eighteen pence on them in pawn.

I don't believe he got the sack; he sacked himself, I'll bet. 
He ought to know you can't set fire to water when it's wet. 
The sight of all that water must have got for poor father beat, 
For mother says that father never did like water neat.
He's jealous of the man who lives at number forty three;
He wants to get a job like him, down at the brewery