There's someone on my toes ;
The foot is big—behold it dig !
And I'm in awful throes, my dear,
And I'm in awful throes. I'm hanging to a strap, my dear,
I'm hanging to a strap ;
If I let go I feel and know
I'll fall into a lap, my dear,
I'll fall into a lap. An elbow prods my side, my dear,
And elbow prods my side.
And someone near has pinched my ear,
And hangs there while we ride, my dear,
And hangs there while we ride. I cannot breathe a breath, my dear,
I cannot breathe a breath ;
The fat ones press and I confess
I'll soon be squeezed to death, my dear,
I'll soon be squeezed to death. Notes From the South Australian Newspaper The Southern Argus 25 May 1905 p. 4.