{"id":4379,"date":"2020-07-24T15:18:34","date_gmt":"2020-07-24T15:18:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/folksongandmusichall.com\/?page_id=4379"},"modified":"2020-10-26T11:47:50","modified_gmt":"2020-10-26T11:47:50","slug":"same-old-game-the","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/folksongandmusichall.com\/index.php\/same-old-game-the\/","title":{"rendered":"Same Old Game, The"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
AKA<\/strong><\/td>I carry on the same old game<\/td><\/tr>
First Published<\/td>1876 <\/td><\/tr><\/tbody><\/table><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
Lyrics<\/strong><\/td>JB Geoghegan<\/td>Music<\/strong><\/td>JB Geoghegan<\/td>Roud<\/strong><\/td>23432<\/td><\/tr><\/tbody><\/table><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
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Music Hall Performers<\/strong><\/td>Sam Torr<\/td><\/tr>
Folk performances<\/strong><\/td>Source Singers<\/strong>
Willie Mathieson, 1952, Aberdeenshire Scotland<\/td><\/tr><\/tbody><\/table><\/figure>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n
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Original<\/strong>? from Diprose's Railway Songbook\n\nWhen I was quite a lad, and the darling of my dad,\nI was troublesome as troublesome could be; \nIf I saw a little boy with a fancy little toy, \nI was sure to make him turn it up to me; \nAnd if he said to me nay, I would upset all his play, \nA proceeding, which was sure to bring me blame; \nAnd tho' my cheeks were dripping with the scolding and the whipping, \nI would carry on the same old game.\n\nThe same old game, the same old game, \nI'd a spirit which the old one couldn't tame; \nFor it mattered not to me how I suffered for the spree, \nI would carry on the same old game.<\/em>\n\nNow when I older grew, more of mischief still I knew, \nFor danger with my doings would increase; \nLet the time be day or dark, I was in at every lark,\nAnd my neighbours never knew a minutes peace;\nWrenching knockers, breaking lamps,pitching into rogues and tramps\nWhile boxing with the bobbies one may fame,\nAnd though each little job cost me nearly twenty bob,\nI would carry on the same old game.\n\nSoon in time I grew a man, but still mischief was my plan,\nFor I made the pretty darlings my delight;\nBig or little, dark or fair, it would never matter where,\nI was living them morning until night:\nAnd to each and all I said, some fine morning we get wed,\nYet though at least a dozen made a claim\nThe judges in the court, fined me heavy for my sport,\nStill I carry on the same old game\n\nNow I have settled down in life, and have got a little wife,\nWho is charming, yes, as charming as can be,\nYet I still regret to state that I often stop out late,\nAn won't give up my liquor and latch key;\nBut all that goes a miss, I settle with a kiss,\nAnd thus my little tigress do I tame,\nAlthough she can come it strong, and her nails are very long,\nI carry on the same old game.\n\nLater (?) American version<\/strong>\nWhen I was quite a lad, And the darling of my dad, \nI was troublesome as troublesome could be; \nIf I saw a little boy With a fancy little toy, \nI was sure to make him turn it up to me; \nAnd if he said to me nay I would upset all his play, \nA proceeding, which was sure to bring me blame; \nAnd tho' my cheeks were dripping, With the scolding and the whipping, \nI would carry on the same old game. \n\nThe same old game, the same old game, \nI'd a spirit which the old one couldn't tame; \nFor it mattered not to me how I suffered for the spree, \nI would carry on the same old game. <\/em>\n\nAs I grew up in life I was urged to take a wife, \nAnd was introduced to one of fashion's pearls; \nNot for Joe, I said, So I kept a level head, \nFor I wasn't to be caught with paste and curls; \nShe found it was no go, My wild oats I would sow, \nIn sports and rackets that I need not name; \nSo in spite of friends or foes, With fine horses and fine clothes, \nI carried on the same old game.\n\nNow I'll tell you something new- I was feeling rather blue, \nSo I went to Coney Island for a spree; \nAs I stepped upon the pier, I spied a little dear, \nWho slyly threw a kiss across to me; \nThinks I, by jove! a mash, I must look out for my cash, \nAs I offered her my arm and asked her name; \nBut she, blushing, hung her head; So to myself I said, \nHere's a chance to work the same old game.\n\nTo the Brighton then we went, Where my cash was quickly spent, \nOn oysters, wine, cigars and lager bier; \nBut judge of my surprise, When a rough with blood-shot eyes, \nCame up and roughly shook my pretty dear; \nThen turning round to me, You are rather fresh, says he, \nTo rob me of the girl that bears my name; \nBut I did quick reply, With finger to my eye, \nIt's been played before, the same old game.\n\nAnd this thro' life you'll find, There are games of every kind, \nAnd life is nothing but a game of skill, \nWhere each one does his best, For his selfish interest, \nAnd leaves the beaten one to foot the bill; \nWhilst he who holds the cards, Is sure of his reward, \nNo matter fair or foul, it's all the same; \nFor it's beat, and rob, and cheat, On Fifth avenue or Wall street, \nOh! everywhere, the same old game..<\/pre>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n
Another song by JB Geoghegan <\/a>sung by Sam Torr<\/a> which has to some extent entered traditional singing. I first came across it advertised as a fragment on the back of another song:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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Advert at rear of Men of Garlic Sheet Music <\/a>ca 1881<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
The the full English version appears in several songbooks and broadsides, and a substantially modified version appears in later American songbooks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Geoghegan was a freemason and wrote a revised version of his own song: The Grand Old Game<\/em>, which traced Masonic origins to the Greek gods, with chorus:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The grand old game, the grand old game,   <\/em>
The whole wide world our actions will acclaim  <\/em>
As in our Lodge we raise, our songs of joy and praise<\/em> 
And carry on the grand old game. <\/em><\/p>Masonic Songs- Bury, p383<\/a> (1885)<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
Sources:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n