Father keeps on doing it

If there's a man I do respect, it is my dear old dad,
He's done no work for twenty years, but isn't doing bad.
My mother lets him live with us, tho' he's a lazy turk,
And gives him money every day to go and look for work.

And father keeps on doing it, doing it,
Father keeps on doing it, doing it.
Mother hands him out a bob and says, 'Now, go and find a job!'
He's trained so hard, he doesn't want to ruin it,
He's lost one eye through looking for work,
And father keeps on doing it.

Now father's got a fishes thirst, mind, it ain't his fault,
They reared him on red herrings and half a bar of salt.
And mother wears a lifebouy, she's afraid he's going to burst,
She hates the drink and begs of him to try and quench his thirst.

And father keeps on doing it, doing it,
Father keeps on doing it, doing it.
He don't care for yeast and hops, he opens his face and down it drops!'
More! more! more! as fast as they are brewing it,
Mother says, 'Cut down the drink!'
But father keeps on doing it.

Now he bought a clock for ninepence and it's got such funny works,
No matter how you wind it up, it only goes by jerks.
He's oiled and he's boiled but his troubles all in vain,
For every twenty minutes it wants winding up again.

And father keeps on doing it, doing it,
Father keeps on doing it, doing it.
Every night when lights are dim, he takes the clock to bed with him'
And all night long, we can hear him screwing it,
He's up all night to keep it right,
And father keeps on doing it.


Father killed our old cock-fowl a long, long time ago,
Nobody knew it's age but it was forty-five, or so.
A pal of mine told him, he should put it in a pot,
And keep on stewing it until he found a tender spot.

And father keeps on doing it, doing it,
Father keeps on doing it, doing it.
Every now and then he goes and sticks a fork in the parson's nose'
But it's still hard, three years he's been stewing it,
The poor old cock's as hard as rock,
And father keeps on doing it.