I hope the more sensitive of my viewers will forgive my posting this rather morbid humorous song. Give me a good pun and I'll listen to anything.
I found this in the Internet Archive (www.archive.org), a site old music fans should visit. They have a huge collection of downloadable cylinder and 78 rpm recordings of every sort.
\"More Work for the Undertaker\"
Edison Gold Moulded Record No. 7669
Circa 1902
DANIEL W. QUINN was one of American recording's first superstars. He cut records for numerous labels and made early recordings of many old \"standards\" like \"A Hot Time in the Old Town,\" \"The Sidewalks of New York,\" and \"Sally in our Alley.\" Before his death in the early 1930s Quinn had recorded over 2000 sides. Notwithstanding all this, after extensive Googling I was able to find only this one picture of the gentleman.
The song has an interesting history. Apparently it began as an English music hall song at the end of the 19th century. It traveled to America where it got a new set of lyrics--presumably the ones on this record. It seems to have enjoyed a revival in England between the Wars. Several English bloggers reminisced about parents and grandparents singing verses of \"More Work for the Undertaker,\" but only the title and chorus resembled Quinn's recording. The verses concerned a stereotyped African named Sambo whose misadventures inevitably led to the familiar refrain. Oddly, Sambo lived through some of the mishaps. I don't know who the undertaker visited during those choruses. It's unclear whether the Sambo lyrics came from the original music hall song or a third version. I'm sure our English friends will know.
LYRICS:
Listen to a song I'm gonna sing you,
You may laugh 'til you haven't any breath.
People nowadays seem to think it very funny
When they hear of a violent death.
Poor little Solomon Levi
To heaven has got a pass.
He searched 'round the house the other night
To find a big escape of gas.
Refrain:
More work for the undertaker.
Another little job for the casket maker.
At the local cemetery they've
Been very, very busy on a brand new grave:
SOLOMON BLOWENFELD (or, BLOWHIMSELF?)
Reuben he was standing on Broadway.
Of cable cars he'd heard an awful lot.
He wanted to see how the old thing worked
So he looked down in the slot.
A car came up behind him.
He didn't hear the bell.
The bump of the car changed his address
From Broadway down to...(CRASH! WHEE!)
(Refrain, ending with:)
A MESSSAGE BY CABLE.
A boy named Jack was playing football.
He was what you call a center rush.
They picked him up in pieces when
It ended in a crush.
His father quickly sent for
What was left of Jack.
When he opened the box he suddenly exclaimed,
\"Why, they've only sent a quarter back!\"
(Refrain, ending with:)
FOOTBALL...AND THAT'S ALL.
