The Drunkard's Child

I'm alone, all alone, my friends all have fled
My father's a drunkard, my mother is dead
I'm a poor little girl, I wonder and weep
For the voice of my mother to sing me to sleep
She sleeps on the hill, in a bed made of clay
How cold it did seem to lay mother away
She's gone with the angels, and none do I see
So dear as the face of my mother to me

cho: I'm a little lone girl in this cold world so wild,
God look down and pity the drunkard's lone child
Look down and pity, Oh soon come to me
Take me to dwell with mother and Thee

We were so happy till father drank rum;
Then aII our sorrows and troubles begun
Mother grew paler and wept every day;
Baby and I were too hungry to pIay
SIowIy they faded and one summer night
Found their sweet faces aIl silent and white
And with big tears sIowIy dropping I said,
"Father's a drunkard and mother is dead"

Oh, if some temperance workers could find
Poor wretched father and speak very kind,
If they could stop him from drinking, why then,
I would feel very happy again
Is it too Iate? Men of temperance, please try,
For poor littIe Bessie will soon starve and die
All day Iong I've been begging for bread
Father's a drunkard and mother is dead

From Weep Some More, Spaeth
@children @temperance @drink @orphan
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playexe DRNKCHLD
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