For me! For Me!

AKAMe me me me me
For me
First Published 1895
LyricsHarry WincottMusicHarry Wincott/ Joseph Tabrar snrRoudRN5393
Music Hall PerformersFred Earle
Folk performancesSource Singers
Walter Pardon, 1978, Norfolk England
Morris Ogg, 1975, Lincolnshire England
Charlie Showers, 1982 Somerset England
Frank Jones, 1984, Birmingham England
George Fradley, 1984, Derbyshire England
Down our street, there is a blooming riot
Five and twenty girls are waiting there
And the Police, they cannot keep them quiet
They won't go, for, you know, every maiden fair ...
For me, for me, she's waiting there for me
They can wait 'til a man can swear
There's not a tart near Leicester Square
Ha ha, he he, I'm not going there, you see
If anyone knows a trick or two, 'tis me, me, me!

Down our street, I met a country joskin
And I had him for his watch and chain
On his snout, I hit him such a cosher
He fell whack, on his back, down in Drury Lane.
For me, for me, he's waiting there for me
He can wait 'til his watch can walk
A blind man see and a dumb man talk
Ha ha, he he, I'm not going there, you see
If anyone knows a trick or two, 'tis me, me, me!

Our landlord, without any warning
Thought he'd try a modern sort of plan
He went round to my house this morning
With a stick, nice and thick, and a broker's man
For me, for me, he's waiting there for me
He can wait 'til the moon shines green
White hairs grow on a black man's chin
Ha ha, he he, I'm not going there, you see
If anyone knows a trick or two, 'tis me, me, me!

Down our street, there is a cabby waiting
And he thinks he's got a splendid fare
After several hours hesitating
I jumped out, for some stout, left him standing there
For me, for me, he's waiting there for me
He can wait 'til his horse drops dead
White hairs grow on a black man's head
Ha ha, he he, I'm not going there, you see
If anyone knows a trick or two, 'tis me, me, me!

Another risqué song sung by Fred Earle, this not quite so well remembered as Seaweed, but found the singing of several late 20th-century English source singers. Written by Harry Wincott – a writer whose songs seem particularly popular amongst the singers that the folksong collectors collected from…

An interesting Music Hall song, a bragging song sung from the point of view of a “villain”. Nowhere near as shocking as Sam Hall mind you ….. Not quite sure what the line White hairs grow on a black man’s chin means, but I suspect it reflects a casual racism, so it’s one I would change (and the “tart” reference too) if I was ever to sing it…

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