Pop Goes The Weasel
Written and Adapted by Eugene Raymond
Published 1856 by Miller & Readham

[Verse 1]
This world is but a scene of strife,
The school to learn hum-bug-ging:
'Tis fame or for-tune we pur-sue,
An ai-ry phan-tom hug-ging.
But when we've got with-in our reach
The sketch on Fan-cy's ea-sel,
Just as we call the trea-sure ours,
Why pop goes the wea-sel!

[Verse 2]
The pol-i-ti-cian thinks he's safe,
By sid-ing with a par-ty;
The cause is quite a no-ble one,
And his sup-port is heart-y.
He mounts the stump and speech-if-ies,
Says his op-po-nent see's ill;
But, when the bal-lot box speaks out,
Then pop goes the wea-sel!

[Verse 3]
We've got a host of fast young men,
Who go it with a rush, sirs;
They spend their money and their health,
And that without a blush, sirs.
But soon their merry reign is o'er,
A lean purse seems to please ill;
The Sheriff soon is at their heels,
Then pop goes the weasel!

[Verse 4]
The dashing belle before her glass,
Sees no defect or error;
Her charms will set the world on fire,
If she believes the mirror.
A "dem foin fellar" comes along,
She flirts like Lady Teazel;
He's at her feet, and asks her hand,
Then pop goes the weasel!

[Verse 5]
I have no moral to my song
But this I've got to say, sirs,
We're but the beings of an hour
And soon will pass away, sirs.
Like others I must "gang my gait."
And hope my song don't please ill;
There's nothing more for me to say-
But pop goes the weasel!