Won’t Go!

From Feldman's Sheet Music (personal copy)

WON'T GO
Words by Harry Castling. Music by JA Tunbridge.

A year ago our homestead was busy as a hive, 
Everybody was alive, 
And went off to work at five; 
But now nobody seems to want to earn their daily bread, 
And when it's time to go work 
They all go up to bed. 

Father's got a job and he won't go, 
Maria won't go, and the fire won't go; 
On our divan, he came there in a van, 
Is a six-foot broker's man, and he won't go. 
The hens won't lay, the cocks won't crow, 
The lodger in the attic and the clock won't go; 
And mother's got a pimple on the tip her nose, 
Oh, Jerusalem, and that won't go.

The only one who tries now is our little servant Jane 
She gets up in a hail or rain. 
Then goes back to bed again; 
Our yellow Persian cat he used to wander miles and miles 
But he's too lazy now to go 
Gamboling on the tiles

To mention work to father now, he says it makes him ill, 
Its the same with uncle Will, 
Down his spine it sends a chill; 
Once Ma was so industrious and round the house she'd buzz, 
But poulticing the pimples now is
The only work she does!