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Oh, there is an ancient at the other end of town,
He keeps a little grocery store - the ancient's name is Brown;
He has an only daughter, such a beaut' I never saw,
I only wish some day to be the old man's son-in-law.
Old Brown sells from off the shelf most anything you please,
Jews harps for the little boys, lollipops and cheese;
His daughter minds the store, and it's a treat to see her serve,
I'd like to run away with her but I don't have the nerve.
And it's Old Brown's daughter is a proper sort of girl,
Old Brown's daughter is as fair as any pearl;
I wish I was a Lord, there, Marquis or an Earl,
And blow me if I wouldn't marry Old Brown's girl.
Poor Old Brown now is troubled with the gout,
He grumbles in the little parlour when he can't get out;
And when I make a purchase and she hands me the change,
That girl makes me hold her eyes, I feel so very strange.
Miss Brown she smiles so sweetly when I say a tender word,
But Old Brown says that she must wed a Marquis or a Lord;
Well, I don't suppose there's ever one of those things I will be,
But, by jingle, next election I will run for Trinity.
And it's Old Brown's daughter is a proper sort of girl,
Old Brown's daughter is as fair as any pearl;
I wish I was a Lord, there, Marquis or an Earl,
And blow me if I wouldn't marry Old Brown's girl.
Blow me if I wouldn't marry Old Brown's girl.
