Gone where they don’t play billiards
AKA | He’s gone to where they don’t play billiards |
First Published | 1903 |
Writer/composer | J.P. Harrington / Sam Mayo | Roud | RNnone |
Music Hall Performers | Sam Mayo |
Folk performances | None? |
This song uses racist language, common at the time but no longer acceptable today.
A fellow went on a journey from Perth to Pimlico He wanted to catch the Scotch Express He had to meet his best girl Bess But the train didn't stop at the station And it caused him a lot of pain So he jumped upon the railway line And tried to stop the train. He's gone to where they don't play billiards Gone where they don't play cards Gone where they don't give racing tips Where they don't sell fish and chips No one ever goes there to see a cricket match He's gone where there's no train to catch. A lady once found that her copper had got it's flue stopped up Her clothes every week it used to spoil She couldn't bring them to the boil She said the flue wanted cleaning, And so one fatal night Upon the copper fire she placed A pound of dynamite. He's gone to where they don't play billiards Gone where they don't play cards Gone where they've got no copper sticks And supply the blue for 'nix' Sunlight soap not wanted - they've got no wringing machine She's gone where they've got no clothes to clean. A fellow once started 'pro-ing', and he got on immense As soon as on to the stage he ran The audience rose up like one man He was singing a lovely coon song, And doing a Negro kick He'd just reached 'Honey honey' When somebody threw a brick. He's gone to where they don't play billiards Gone where they don't play cards Gone where they sing no Negro air Don't even mention Buller there There's no comic singer or dashing serios He's gone where they don't want any 'pros'. A fellow once made a wager how many eggs he'd eat They brought him up a couple of trucks He first ate hens, and then ate ducks When he'd shifted a couple of thousand To make things good for trade He started on a hard-boiled egg That our old rooster laid. He's gone to where they don't play billiards Gone where they don't play cards Gone to a place far, far away Where the hens refuse to lay They've no incubators there And very little sun He's gone to where you get your eggs well done.
A song from the early 1900s written by JP Harrington and Sam Mayo, performed in the Halls by Sam Mayo. For a while in early the 20th century the title seemed to enter common use as a euphemism for death. “The Immobile One” (Mayo) also made an early recording of the song which featured on a compilation CD of the same name, compiled by Tony Barker. According to the sleevenotes Mayo was a keen billiards player and died playing the game…. I have no evidence of traditional singers doing this one but I’m sure I’ve seen somebody perform this song, but I cannot remember who…..
Sources:
- Lyrics: monologues.co.uk
- Gone where they don’t play billiards Old Bean Records, CD DOLD501