Oh! the Ayes were two forty-three!
Who'd run a tilt 'gainst common sense?
I married for convenience;
Brotherly love? oh! fiddle-de-dee!
'Tis wiser th' ills we know to bear,
Than run the chance of worse elsewhere;
Oh! the Ayes were two forty-three!
Twice married—but I'm bound to state
Th' expediency of this is great;
Brotherly love? oh! fiddle-de-dee!