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No. 14 - A Lament

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All: Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh!
Dolly: We've lost our pretty laces,
Our kerchiefs with the cases,
To wipe our pretty faces.
All: Who ever knew such woes.
Dolly: Our feathers, broidered fichus,
Our airy, fairy tissues,
Our surrah gowns, our French shoes,
All: That pinched our pretty toes.
Rufus: We're fleeced of wool and we are plucked of plume,
With not a pin-feather remaining.
Miss Hurricane: But we should smile, and we should never fume,
For 'tis, you see, official gaining.
Teddy: Bedad! Who knows, arrah! where plunder goes,
Yes, ah! where, oh! where does it go to?
Rufus: It goes, it goes to feed the crows,
It goes, it goes in to-to.
All: It goes, it goes to feed the crows,
It goes, it goes in to-to.
It goes, it goes to feed the crows,
It goes, it goes in to-to.

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Page modified 7 May 2017