When home he’ll come.
Says the light
Is awful dim;
Tells me not
To bother him.
Smokes his pipe,
Don’t say a word;
Says boys should be seen,
Not heard.
Makes me go
When home he’ll come.
Says the light
Is awful dim;
Tells me not
To bother him.
Smokes his pipe,
Don’t say a word;
Says boys should be seen,
Not heard.
Makes me go