little bisque doll

Oh, sad was the day for the little bisque doll
For they cut all her stitches away
and bound at the seat of the terrible ache
"'It was a delicate task," they all say
For none of the doctors had ever before
Performed on a dolly's inside
They tried to re-stuff her but didn't know how
And this was her wail as she died



I've got a pain in my sawdust
That's whats the matter with me
Something is wrong with my little inside
I'm just as sick as can be
Don't let me faint
Someone get me a fan
Someone please run for the medicene man
Everyone hurry
As fast as you can
Cos I've got a pain in my sawdust