Tell you the tale o’ Flo, sir, and how she came to die?
’Twere a sad time in my life, tho’ it’s so long gone by.
I was a drunken brute then—never thought much o’ Flo;
Nearly al’ays in liquor—got jolly screwed, you know.
Yes, I treated her shockin’! life must ha’ been pretty bad,
She’d prom’sed her dyin’ mother al’ays to look after dad.
I used to laugh at her notions, she was but a gal o’ seven,
And ’ad got it fixed in her ’ead to bring me along to heaven.
“Dad!” she’d say to me sometimes, “it’s beau’ful bright in there;
Everyone’s al’ays ’appy, and got golden crowns to wear.”