I'd Sooner Kiss the Hangman (Vaudeville Blues)

STUDIO

Well, look who's back.

A gentleman with a toolbox
Came drifting through my side door key,
Swore he'd mend my kettle
With a spanner and a squeeze.
He ate my ham in April,
Drank my gin in May,
Pawned my mama's candlesticks
And called it "holiday pay."

I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey,
I'd sooner kiss the hangman!
Than split my last pork chop
With a man that won't get out my bed.
I'd sooner kiss the hangman, Lord,
Right on the gallows floor,
Than feed another freeloader
Who ain't fixed my kettle or my door!

He likes his eggs at seven,
His mean whiskey after ten,
Got a wife in Cincinnati
And a cousin now and then.
He calls me his sweet angel,
But the rent is overdue,
And angels don't pay grocers,
So what the hell's an angel do?

Listen here…

Now the deacon blessed my doorway,
Then he blessed my pantry bare,
Said my ways would bring me shame
While he's eyeing up my chair.
He wants to save my spirit,
Wants a little something too,
Well, salvation ain't worth nothing
If the collection plate's for you.

Ain't that the gospel truth.

I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey,
I'd sooner kiss the hangman!
Than carve my Sunday chicken
For a fool who sleeps till half past ten.
I'd sooner kiss the hangman, Lord,
And maybe kiss him more,
Than feed a man who eats the breast
And leaves me bones upon the floor!

Play it, boy!

My good-time gal named Georgia
Dropped around at half past nine,
Took one look at that old plumber,
Said, "That fool ain't worth a dime."
We drank the gin together,
Played the gramophone till three,
Then sent him down the staircase
With his wrench and dignity.

Now I ain't afraid of dying,
Ain't afraid of growing old,
But a man that eats my supper
While my bathwater turns cold?

I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey,
I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey
Unless the hangman's paying rent.

Will somebody fix that damn kettle?!

2117/7500

Well, look who's back. A gentleman with a toolbox Came drifting through my side door key, Swore he'd mend my kettle With a spanner and a squeeze. He ate my ham in April, Drank my gin in May, Pawned my mama's candlesticks And called it "holiday pay." I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey, I'd sooner kiss the hangman! Than split my last pork chop With a man that won't get out my bed. I'd sooner kiss the hangman, Lord, Right on the gallows floor, Than feed another freeloader Who ain't fixed my kettle or my door! He likes his eggs at seven, His mean whiskey after ten, Got a wife in Cincinnati And a cousin now and then. He calls me his sweet angel, But the rent is overdue, And angels don't pay grocers, So what the hell's an angel do? I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey, I'd sooner kiss the hangman! Than split my last pork chop With a man that won't get out my bed. I'd sooner kiss the hangman, Lord, Right on the gallows floor, Than feed another freeloader Who ain't fixed my kettle or my door! Listen here… Now the deacon blessed my doorway, Then he blessed my pantry bare, Said my ways would bring me shame While he's eyeing up my chair. He wants to save my spirit, Wants a little something too, Well, salvation ain't worth nothing If the collection plate's for you. Ain't that the gospel truth. I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey, I'd sooner kiss the hangman! Than carve my Sunday chicken For a fool who sleeps till half past ten. I'd sooner kiss the hangman, Lord, And maybe kiss him more, Than feed a man who eats the breast And leaves me bones upon the floor! Play it, boy! My good-time gal named Georgia Dropped around at half past nine, Took one look at that old plumber, Said, "That fool ain't worth a dime." We drank the gin together, Played the gramophone till three, Then sent him down the staircase With his wrench and dignity. Now I ain't afraid of dying, Ain't afraid of growing old, But a man that eats my supper While my bathwater turns cold? I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey, I'd sooner kiss the hangman, honey Unless the hangman's paying rent. Will somebody fix that damn kettle?!

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