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I got married to a scolding wife a few years ago,
And ever since I lived a life of misery and woe;
My wife she is a tyrant around the house within,
And she'll fetch me to the dickens for a glass or two of gin.
When I comes home at breakfast time with patience I must stop,
For she'll drink what's in the teapot and sure I must drink the slop;
And if I chance to grumble it's well I know my doom,
It's the poker or the fire shovel up and down the room.
I would ask of my scolding wife to let me go to bed,
For to just get one hour on the pillow to lay my head;
But like a roaring lion she burst open the door,
And she grabbed me by the middle, slashed me naked on the floor.
It is pokers, chairs and tables at me she would let fly,
It's with her nails she'll tear my face, with the billets she'll black my eye;
She'll tear my shirt in pieces, break my sweater with the broom,
And she'll bang me with the fire shovel up and down the room.
Me and my companion we'd go to some public house,
And she'll search all the neighbourhood until she finds us out;
She'd hoist me up and ridicule me before the company,
Saying, "Paddy Poteen's your master, Jack, and ever more will be."
Sung by Jack Knight (b.1873) of Pouch Cove, NL, and published in MacEdward Leach And The Songs Of Atlantic Canada © 2004 Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive (MUNFLA).
