ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS.
Words by George Horncastle. Music by Felix McGlennon.
Just upon the stroke of midnight,See a man walk down the street,He for work all day has hunted,Is heart-broken, sore of feet;He looks for a lowly lodging,When there comes a piteous cryFrom a woman, “I am starving,Help me, sir, or I shall die!”Chorus.He thinks of that coin, his night’s lodging ’twill pay,Then looks on that face and its tresses so gray,Then in charity gives his last penny away,Actions speak louder than words.From the club at early morning,Someone’s husband’s just come home,He’s been gone six hours and over,Went out for ten minutes’ roam;Thus he’s greeted by his spousey:“Where have you been all the night?Can’t you speak, you helpless idiot?Tell me, are you speechless tight?”Chorus.He gives a sly wink, then he throws down his hat,Tries to pull off his boots, then he tumbles down flat,Hangs his watch on the floor, goes to sleep on the cat,Actions speak louder than words.
Just upon the stroke of midnight,See a man walk down the street,He for work all day has hunted,Is heart-broken, sore of feet;He looks for a lowly lodging,When there comes a piteous cryFrom a woman, “I am starving,Help me, sir, or I shall die!”Chorus.He thinks of that coin, his night’s lodging ’twill pay,Then looks on that face and its tresses so gray,Then in charity gives his last penny away,Actions speak louder than words.From the club at early morning,Someone’s husband’s just come home,He’s been gone six hours and over,Went out for ten minutes’ roam;Thus he’s greeted by his spousey:“Where have you been all the night?Can’t you speak, you helpless idiot?Tell me, are you speechless tight?”Chorus.He gives a sly wink, then he throws down his hat,Tries to pull off his boots, then he tumbles down flat,Hangs his watch on the floor, goes to sleep on the cat,Actions speak louder than words.
Just upon the stroke of midnight,See a man walk down the street,He for work all day has hunted,Is heart-broken, sore of feet;He looks for a lowly lodging,When there comes a piteous cryFrom a woman, “I am starving,Help me, sir, or I shall die!”
Just upon the stroke of midnight,
See a man walk down the street,
He for work all day has hunted,
Is heart-broken, sore of feet;
He looks for a lowly lodging,
When there comes a piteous cry
From a woman, “I am starving,
Help me, sir, or I shall die!”
Chorus.He thinks of that coin, his night’s lodging ’twill pay,Then looks on that face and its tresses so gray,Then in charity gives his last penny away,Actions speak louder than words.
Chorus.
He thinks of that coin, his night’s lodging ’twill pay,
Then looks on that face and its tresses so gray,
Then in charity gives his last penny away,
Actions speak louder than words.
From the club at early morning,Someone’s husband’s just come home,He’s been gone six hours and over,Went out for ten minutes’ roam;Thus he’s greeted by his spousey:“Where have you been all the night?Can’t you speak, you helpless idiot?Tell me, are you speechless tight?”
From the club at early morning,
Someone’s husband’s just come home,
He’s been gone six hours and over,
Went out for ten minutes’ roam;
Thus he’s greeted by his spousey:
“Where have you been all the night?
Can’t you speak, you helpless idiot?
Tell me, are you speechless tight?”
Chorus.He gives a sly wink, then he throws down his hat,Tries to pull off his boots, then he tumbles down flat,Hangs his watch on the floor, goes to sleep on the cat,Actions speak louder than words.
Chorus.
He gives a sly wink, then he throws down his hat,
Tries to pull off his boots, then he tumbles down flat,
Hangs his watch on the floor, goes to sleep on the cat,
Actions speak louder than words.
Copyright, 1891, byFrank Tousey. Entered at Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C., U. S. A., and Stationer’s Hall, London, England. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 10 cents. Address,Frank Tousey, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.
Copyright, 1891, byFrank Tousey. Entered at Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C., U. S. A., and Stationer’s Hall, London, England. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 10 cents. Address,Frank Tousey, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.