Three weary days have passed away
and still I sing a mournful day,
because my love is far away,
and I have had no letter.
I study hard at ancient law
and when a knock comes at the door
I close my book and hope once more
that I may get a letter.
Ratta-ta-tatt...
Someone is coming to the door.
'Tis the butcher or baker, that's fat
I know by the ugly ra-tat
With all his good beef
The butcher's a thief
and the baker's all saucy and fat.
Three weary days my heart is sore
[...] live one week has fled away
and yet I sing a mournful day,
because my love is far away,
and I have had no letter.
I study hard at ancient law
and really think it is a bore.
But hark! there's footsteps at the door.
By jingle, here's a letter!
Ratta-ta-tat...
Someone is coming to the door.
'Tis the postman, I know his ra-tat
and the [...] he wears round his hat.
He's brought me a letter
from [...]
Fa-la-la
Now welcome joy, I'll sigh no more!
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