Nothing

NOTHING
Sung by Cliff Ryland
Written and Composed by Murray and Leigh
Francis and Day's 16th Comic Annual, p46 (1896)

Oh what a terrible life this is! there's nothing to do but live;
Nothing to grow but pimples, warts and whiskers round your chiv.
What's the good of your optics when there's nothing to see but sights?
And when you get in the dark, you know, there's nothing to light but lights
When you're broke on Monday morn there's nothing to do but sub;
No matter how hungry you may be, there's nothing to eat but grub.
Nothing to think but thoughts, nothing but clothes to wear;
Nothing to drink but something wet, and nothing to breathe but air.

Nothing! nothing! 
What is the reason why, 
When you get to the end of your life
There's nothing to do but die!
Nothing to do but die!
Nothing to do but die!
When you get to the end of your life
There's nothing to do but die!

When you go for a stroll, you know, there's nothing to do but walk;
When you speak to a pal there's nothing to do but talk.
Hens are no good at making a book, they have nothing to lay but eggs;
And when you've got your trousers on there's nothing inside but legs
Nothing inside a sausage roll, nothing but wind and meat;
Nothing inside your boots and socks but feet, feet, feet.
When the pubs are shut, there's nowhere to go but bed;
Nothing to chew but with your teeth, nothing to bury but dead

Nothing! nothing! 
Nothing, alas! alack!
It makes me wild when I go out 
There's nowhere to come but back!
Nowhere to come but back!
Nowhere to come but back!
It makes me wild when I go out 
There's nowhere to come but back!

When you court a pretty girl there's nothing to kiss but face;
Nothing to do but draw your "oof" when your horse has won the race.
If you take a pinch of snuff, there's nothing to do but sneeze; 
And down at Margate you will find there's nothing to catch but fleas.
The clock I bought some days ago has nothing to do but tick;
If you put your pants on a pound of paste there's nothing to do but stick.
If you are riding a bike there's nowhere to fall but off;
If you swallow a bad cigar, there's nothing to do but cough.

Nothing! nothing! 
Nothing to spend but quids
If you want to be a family man
There's nothing to have but kids
Nothing to have but kids
Nothing to have but kids
If you want to be a family man
There's nothing to have but kids