Please sir will you listen a moment,
I've something important to say.
My Mother has sent you a message,
Re-ceive it in kind-ness I pray.
'Tis of Father poor Father I'm speak-ing,
You know him he's call'd ragged Gore.
But we love him and hope we may save him,
If you'll promise to sell him no more.
Please sell no more drink to my Father,
It makes him so strange and so wild,
Heed the prayer of my heartbroken mother,
And pity the poor drunkard's child
My Father came home yestereven,
Reeled home thro' the mud and the rain.
He upset the lamp on the table,
And struck my sick Mother again,
Then all of the hours till the morning,
He lay on the cold kitchen floor.
And this morning he's sick and he's sorry,
Oh, promise to sell him no more.
When sober he loves us so dearly,
No Father is kinder than he.
He wishes so much to stop drinking,
But this is the trouble you see,
He cannot withstand the temptation,
He feels when he passes your door,
As he goes to his work in the morning,
Please promise to sell him no more.