Vintage Sheet Music: Humorous Songs About Men and the Racism Often Behind The Songs

Vaudeville and Music Hall songs were the pop music of their day. People enjoyed songs with humor and satire. Today, let's look at songs about men.

He's A Devil in His Own Home Town by Irving Berlin and Grand Clark was published in 1914 and sung by John Canfield. Hear a Victor recording by Billy Murray here. One online source states that Berlin also provided the sheet music cover art!

I've got an uncle by the name of Jerry
He's got a farm, a great big farm
Two thousand acres of the very, very
Best land in the whole United States
He's got a reputation in the village
Known as a dude, a gosh darn dude
He would never do in New York City
But in his home town

[Refrain:]
He's a devil, he's a devil
He's a devil in his own home town
On the level, on the level
He's as funny as a clown
He spends a five cent piece, thinks nothing of it
His pants all creased, red vest above it
And when it comes to women, oh! oh! oh! oh!
He's a devil, he's a devil
Telling stories in a groc'ry store
On the level, on the level
Has 'em rolling on the floor
Down at the fair with all the other heckers
He received first prize for playing checkers
And he cheated
Can you beat it?
He's a devil in his own home town

[2nd verse:]
He's got an overcoat that's fine and furry
Gold-headed cane that came from Spain
They've even got him saying "I should worry"
Just like all the sporty city folks
You ought to see the way he spends his money
He bought a box of hole-proof socks
They would never do for New York City
But in his home town (chorus)

***

Rube Goldberg's song I'm The Guy ('noise,' ie, music by Bert Grant) dates to 1912. Goldberg had a cartoon series in the newspaper called I'm the Guy, featuring a cantankerous man who asserted preposterous claims. Read more here. Here Billy Murray sing it here or here.

When they hear me talk, when they see me walk,
People turn around to say: "Who's That?"
All the people cry, all the ladies sigh,
'Till they know exactly where I'm at
The Kaiser shines my shoes
The Csar pours out my boose,
And the King of England cuts my hair,
I eat a bale of hay for breakfeast [sic] every day,
I'm here, I'm there, I'm mostly every where.

I'm the guy that put the salt in the ocean
I'm the guy that put the bones in fish,
I'm the guy can't tell a lie, 'I'll always live, I'll never die.
In the wishbone, I'm the guy that put the wish
I'm the guy that put the smoke in chimneys
I'm the guy that put the leave on trees
What's that? Who and I? Don't you know?
I'm the guy that put the holes in sweitzer cheese.

I wear stylish clothes, I'm the guy that knows,
Why a chicken goes across the street.
I'm the only man knows how old is Ann,
And I place each copper on his beat
My shoes are diamond soled, my bed is made of gold,
Twenty thousand servants bring my meals
I'm chased by pretty girls and Dukes and Lords and Earls,
And I'm the final court of all appeals.

I'm the guy that put the sand on the beaches,
I'm the guy that put the crust on pies,
I'm the guy that's far and nigh,
I take a bath and come out dry,
I'm the guy that puts the wings on little flies
I'm the guy that put the hump on the camel
I'm the guy that put the cough in croup
What's That? Don't you know?
I'm the guy, I'm the guy that put the noise in noodle soup.

When I take a car, going fast and far,
No one dares to ask me for my fare
Ev'ry one who knows, says "look, there he goes!"
Gee, there's nothing to it, I'm a bear
I've got a million wives who'll sacrifice their lives,
Just to make things comf'table for me,
I live on fancy things, prepared by Queens and Kings,
I go to ev'ry show admission free.
I'm the guy that put the notes in music
I' the guy that put the horns on deer,
What's that? Who am I? Don't you know?
I'm the guy that put the foam on beer.

***

The comedy patter song Oh! Mister Gallagher and Mister Shean was featured in the Ziegfield Follies of 1922. Al Shean (born Abraham Schoenberg; he was a brother to the Marx brother's mother) and Edward Gallagher performed together between 1910 and 1914 then reunited for the 1920 Frivolities review with Gallagher & Shean in Egypt. Read more here and here.

Shean: Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Oh! Mister Gallagher!
Gallagher: Hello, what's on your mind
This morning, Mister Shean?

Shean: Ev'rybody's making fun
Of the way our country's run
All the papers say
We'll soon live European.

Gallagher: Why Mister Shean,
Why Mister Shean.
On the day they took away
Our old canteen,
Cost of living went so high
That it's cheaper now to die.

Shean: Positively, Mister Gallagher.
Gallagher: Absolutely, Mister Shean.

Shean: Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Oh! Mister Gallagher,
If you're a friend of mine,
You'll lend me a couple of bucks.
I'm so broke and badly bent,
And I haven't got a cent.
I'm so clean you'd think
That I was washed with Lux.

Gallagher: Oh! Mister Shean,
Oh! Mister Shean,
Do you mean to say
You haven't got a bean?
On my word as I'm alive,
I intended touching you for five.

Shean: Oh! I thank you Mister Gallagher.
Gallagher: You are welcome Mister Shean.

Shean: Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Once I think I saw you save a lady's life
In a rowboat out to sea.
You were a hero then to me,
And I thought perhaps
You've made this girl your wife.

Gallagher: Oh! Mister Shean,
Oh! Mister Shean,
As she sunk I dove down like a submarine,
Dragged her up upon the shore,
Now she's mine forever more.

Shean: Who, the lady, Mister Gallagher?
Gallagher: No, the rowboat, Mister Shean.

Shean: Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Oh! Mister Gallagher,
What's the name of that game
They play on the links?
With a stick they knock the ball
Where you can't find it at all,
Then the caddie walks around
And thinks and thinks.

Gallagher: Oh! Mister Shean,
Oh! Mister Shean,
You don't even know a hazard from a green.
Its become a popular game,
And you don't even know its name,

Shean: Sure it's croquet, Mister Gallagher.
Gallagher: No, lawn tennis, Mister Shean.

***

People's sense of humor was very different a hundred years ago. Ethnic background and race and class were all standard comedic fare.

If You Knock the ''L' out of Kelly it Would Still be Kelley to Me by Sam. M. Lewis and Joe Young with music by Bert Grant, 1916. Illustration by the prolific illustrator Barbelle. This was a very popular song in both record and sheet music sales. Lewis also wrote Hello Central, Give Me No Man's Land and Where did Robinson Crusoe Go with Friday on Saturday Night.

Timothy Kelly, who owned a big store,
Wanted his name painted over the door,
One day Pat Clancy, the painter man came;
Tried to be fancy and misspelled the name;
Instead of Kelly with double "L - Y"
He painted Kelly, but one "L" was shy,
Pat said, "it looks right, but I want no pay,
I've reasoned it out in my own little way."

Timothy Kelly looked up at the sign,
He told Pat Clancy "that's no name of mine,
As a sign painter you'll never go far,
You're a fine painter like Kelly you are;
Shame on you Clancy, just see what you've done,
You've spoiled the name of an Irishman's son"
"Don't let an "L" come between us" said Pat,
"I've figured it out like a real diplomat."

Chorus
If I knock the "L" out of Kelly, 
It would still be Kelly to me;
Sure a single "L - Y" or a double "L - Y"
Should look just the same to an Irishman's eye

Knock off an "L" from Killarney,
Still Killarney it always will be,
But if I knock the "L" out of Kelly,
Sure he'd knock the "L" out of me.

***

Everybody Works But Father by Jean Havez was performed by Lew Dockstader and his Great Minstrel Company, published in 1905. Listen to it here and an orchestral version here.

Dockstader (born George Clapp) was the last great minstrel man who discovered Al Jolson. His comic monologues satirized Teddy Roosevelt. Today we view the minstrel show as having promoting racist stereotypes with its white men in blackface. This song is a good example of the stereotyping.

Every morning at six o'clock I go to my work,

With over coat buttoned up ‘round my neck no job would I shirk 

Winter wind blows ‘round my head cutting up my face, 

I tell you what I'd like to have my dear old father's place.

Chorus

Everybody works but father 

And he sits around all day, 

Feet in front of the fire 

Smoking his pipe of clay, 

Mother takes in washing 

So does sister Ann, 

Everybody works at our house but my old man.

A man named Work moved into town, and father heard the news, 

With work so near my father started shaking in his shoes, 

When Mister Work walked by my house he saw with great surprise,

My father sitting in his chair with blinders on his eyes.

(Chorus)

At beating carpets father said he simply was immense, 

We took the parlor carpet out and hung it on the fence,

My mother said:"now beat it dear, with all you might and main" 

And father beat it right back to the fireside again.

(Chorus)

***

I have trouble understanding how a song about an elderly man's pain was funny. I am sure that a hundred years ago that every man, if he lived long enough, suffered pain after the hard physical and manual labor his work entailed.

Written in 1912, the 'coast to coast hit' I've Got the Rumatiz by Carl Summers was performed by the Texas Four. This sheet music dates to 1918; the original showed an African American man with a cane indicating the song was one more that used African Americans as a source of humor.

I've taken every medicine that's said to be
The best for "rumatizum" but they don't cure me
most everything in the old almanac I use;
But it don't do any good it just gives me the blues.
I used to 'sing and dance the wing, most every day,
I thought that it would surely keep the pain away
But Lordy, the old things got me sore
And I' all crippled up and don't dance anymore.

Chorus:
I've got the 'rumatiz', Oh, gee whiz!
I've got the 'rumatiz' all over me,
I've got it in my ankle and I've got it in my knee,
Now if a Doctor doesn't come here and cure my pain
Then I am positive that I will go insane
'Cause I've got 'rumatiz' Oh, gee whiz!
I've got the 'rumatiz' all over me.

Oh! It's the worst pain that a fellow ever knew,
The doctors all look wise but can't tell what to do,
They use a lot of big words I don't understan'
Write some chinese [sic] on a paper for the drugstore man.
"Do what I say and I am sure I'll do you good"
Said one old doctor and I was quite sure he would;
He got all my money for his fee,
Bt still I have the 'rumatiz' all over me.
Chorus

***

Prohibition took away what little 'fun' a man had. Written by the stellar team Andrew B. Sterling and Harry Von Tilzer, Whoa January You're Going to be Worse than July) commemorated the last days of legal alcohol in 1919. This is another cover by Barbelle. Listen to it here.

The first of July they said we'd go dry,
And ev'ry one thought there'd be nothing to buy.
But you got yours, and I got mine,
And ev'ry one was happy we were feeling fine.
But soon we'll be through, then won't we feel blue,
No more we'll hear that "have another" sound.
Can you picture me saying "gimme some tea"
When Mister January comes around?

Chorus: Whoa January, oh January,
I hate to see you come 'round
July was mighty tough, but we could get enough,
And if we knew the barman we could get the reg'lar stuff.
But oh January, whoa January
I'm so sad I want to cry.
You're the month that's going to make my life a wreck;
I know I will turn into a horses neck!
Whoa January when you go dry
You're going to be worse than July.

Last night in a dream, how real it did seem,
A raspberry soda all smothered with cream,
Said peek-a-boo I'll get you soon,
The time is coming when you have to use a spoon!
They filled you I hear with two percent beer,
But soon you'll be an ice-cream soda hound.
There's drinks we can pick, but not one with a kick,
When Mister January comes around.

Chorus: Whoa January, oh January,
I hate to see you come 'round
July you made us think we couldn't get a drink,
But when we wanted something all we had to do was wink.
But oh January, Whoa January
So long good old rock and rye.
Mister Beethoven never made a hit with me.
'Cause it hasn't got the right authority.
Whoa January when you go dry
You're going to be worse than July, going to be worse than July,
Going to be worse than July.

Tin Pan Alley Sheet Music: Men, Women, and Courtship

My collection of sheet music includes many early 20th c songs that were sung on Vaudeville stages.  Many were written in Tin Pan Alley.

One can learn so much about society in those days from these songs. Let's start what they reveal about men's attitudes toward women. These date from 1909 to 1919.

My Wife's Gone to the Country Hurrah! Hurrah! was written by George Whiting, Ted Snyder and Irving Berlin, published in 1909.

According to an interview with Irving Berlin, the song came to him in a barbershop. George Whiting, a vaudeville actor, was a few chairs down from Berlin who asked him when he needed to be home. Whiting replied, "I don't have to go home, my wife is in the country." Berlin walked out of the shop with those words in his head and soon found them a melody and the chorus worked out. In a few hours the song was completed and two days later it was heard all over the land.

When Missus Brown told hubby, "I just can't stand the heat
Please send me to the country, dear, I know 'twould be a treat"
Next day his wife and fam'ly were seated on a train
And when the train had started, Brownie shouted this refrain:

My wife's gone to the country, hurrah, hurrah!
She thought it best, I need a rest, that's why she went away
She took the children with her, hurrah, hurrah!
I don't care what becomes of me, my wife's gone away

He kept the 'phone a-going, told ev'ryone he knew
"It's Mister Brown, come on downtown, I have some news for you"
He told a friend reporter just why he felt so gay
Next day an advertisement in the papers read this way:

[2nd refrain:]
My wife's gone to the country, hurrah, hurrah!
She thought it best, I need a rest, that's why she went away
She took the children with her, hurrah, hurrah!
I don't care what becomes of me, my wife's gone away

He sang his joyful story into a phonograph
He made a dozen records and I say it was to laugh
For when his friends had vanished and Brown was all alone
His neighbors heard the same old tune on Brownie's graphophone

My wife's gone to the country, hurrah, hurrah!
She thought it best, I need the rest, that's why she went away
She took the children with her, hurrah, hurrah!
Like Eva Tanguay, I don't care, my wife's gone away

He went into the parlor and tore down from the wall
A sign that read "God Bless Our Home" and threw it in the hall
Another sign he painted and hung it up instead
Next day the servant nearly fainted when these words she read:

My wife's gone to the country, hurrah, hurrah!
She thought it best, I need the rest, that's why she went away
She took the children with her, hurrah, hurrah!
Now I'm with you if you're with me, my wife's gone away

He called on pretty Molly, a girl he used to know
The servant said "She left the house about an hour ago
But if you leave your name, sir, or write a little note
I'll give it to her when she comes" and this is what he wrote:

My wife's gone to the country, hurrah, hurrah!
She thought it best, I need the rest, that's why she went away
She took the children with her, hurrah, hurrah!
I love my wife, but oh! you kid, my wife's gone away

He went and bought a parrot, a very clever bird
The kind that always would repeat most anything she heard
So when his voice grew husky and Brownie couldn't talk
While he'd be taking cough-drops, he would have the parrot squawk:

My wife's gone to the country, hurrah, hurrah!
She thought it best, I need the rest, that's why she went away
She took the children with her, hurrah, hurrah!
I knew my book, she left the cook, my wife's gone away

The song was sung by Stuart Barnes, a successful English Music Hall performer whose songs and monologues were usually about marriage and women. He often sang Irving Berlin songs after his monologues. He earned $400 a week in 1909. (Source found here.) He was openly gay.

***

Some men wanted freedom from their women, while others were worried about being thrown over.

 Keep Your Eye on the Girlie You Love by Howard Johnson and Alex Gerber, music by Ira Schuster, was performed by Tin Pan Alley and Vaudeville star Moe Thompson. The March 2, 1917 issue of The Saturday Evening Post has an advertisement for the sheet music and the Pathe recording.

Take a tip from one who knows, all you single men, 
If you've a girl to call your own, Don't ever leave her all alone. 
If temptation comes her way, will she pass it by? 
That's a question, so my suggestion is, Watch her on the sly. 

Keep your eye on the girlie you love, 
There's a beau that you know nothing of, 
Who may be there to call, when you're out of sight, 
Of course, she may not fall, but may be she might. 
Never leave her for more than a day, 
‘Cause there's hundreds that lose ‘em that way, 
So keep your eye upon your girl, Bill, 
If you don't some other fellow will. 

It's a tough thing now-a-days, picking out a girl, 
So when you find your heart’s delight, 
Take my advice and treat her right, 
Girls are fickle as can be, change their minds each day; 
Do a rave to ‘em, be a slave to ‘em, That’s the wisest way. 

Keep your eye on the girlie you love, 
Just be sure that she’s your turtle dove, 
Don’t take a chance and introduce your best pal, 
For if she likes him best, goodbye to your gal. 
She may kiss you goodnight by mistake, 
Call you Clarence, when your name is Jake, 
So keep your eye upon your girl, Bill, 
If you don’t some other fellow will.

***

One way of 'keeping your girlie' was to make love to her at the movies. Couples sitting in a dark room raised the fear of parents who worried about the sexual freedom that might be perpetrated there. Hollywood movie stars had wild parties and scandalous sex lives--evil role models for the young. This was the new world of dating. Courtship no longer took place on front porch swings.

Take Your Girlie To the Movies (If You Can't Make Love At Home) by Edgar Leslie and Bert Kalmar with music by Pete Wendling would have been pretty scandalous in 1919.

The song begins when a boy asks love advice:

When I call to love my girl
Her folks are always there;
That's why I'm blue, 
What shall I do?

The answer is:

Take your girlie to the movies
if you can't make love at home;
There is no little brother there who always squeals
you can say an awful lot in seven reels.

Take your lessons at the movies
And have love scenes of your own;
When the picture's over and its time to leave,
Don't forget to brush the powder off your sleeve.

Pick a cozy corner where it's nice and dark,
Don't catch influenza kissing in the park,
Take your lessons at the movies,
and have love scenes of your own;
Though's she's just a simple little ribbon clerk,
Close your eyes and think you're kissing Billie Burke;
Take your girlie to the movies, if you can't make love at home.

***

Good girls, bad girls--they are all the same according to There's a Little Bit of Bad in Every Good Little Girl by Grant Clarke and Fred Fischer, performed by Brice and King, published in 1917. This sheet music shows Elizabeth Brice and Charles King, performers called some of the "cleverest" in the business. Miss Brice came from Toledo, Ohio and progressed from singing in Sunday School to the town casino.

 This is a truly horrifying song!

Nobody ever sings about the bad girls
Because the bad girls are sad
And everybody sings about the good girls
Because the good girls are glad
Till you've been around 'em once or twice

You can't tell the naughty from the nice

There's a little bit of bad in every good little girl
They're not to blame
Mother Eve was very good
But even she raised Cain
I know a preacher's daughter
Who never orders water
There's a little bit of bad in every good little girl
They're all the same

I had a dream I went to see the devil
There was the devil to pay
He said I'm awful busy on the level
I said the devil you say
Why are you so busy tell me why
He replied and winked his other eye

There's a little bit of bad in every good little girl
They're not to blame
Though they seem like angels in a dream
They're naughty just the same
They read the good book Sunday
And snappy stories Monday
There's a little bit of bad in every good little girl
They're all the same

***

They Go Wild Simply Wild Over Me by Joe McCarthy and Fred Fisher was published in 1917. The song appears in Bullets Over Broadway by Woody Allen.

There is a version for men:

I hate to talk about myself,

But here's one time I must!

Your confidence I'll trust,

I have to speak or bust!

It's funny how I get the girls,

I never try at all;

I seem to hypnotise them,

I'm bound to make them fall!

They go wild, simply wild, over me!

They go mad, just as mad as they can be!

No matter where I'm at,

All the ladies, thin or fat,

The tall ones,

The small ones,

I grab them off like that!

Every night, how they fight over me!

I don't know what it is that they can see!

The ladies look at me and sigh,

In my arms they wanna die!

They go wild, simply wild, over me!

I get so many pretty girls,

I give a few away!

They bother me each day,

They're leading me astray!

There's lots of fellows go with girls

And never get their drift;

I always get the women,

It's just a natural gift!

They go wild, simply wild, over me!

They go mad, just as mad as they can be!

No matter where I'm at,

All the ladies, thin or fat,

The tall ones,

The small ones,

Why, I grab them off like that!

Every night, how they fight over me!

I don't know what it is that they can see!

I can never be alone,

I have to choke the telephone!

They go wild, simply wild, over me!

And for the girls:

I hate to talk about myself but here's one time I must

Your confidence I'll trust, I have to speak or bust

It's funny how I get the boys, I never try at all

I seem to hypnotize them, I'm bound to make them fall

They go wild, simply wild, over me

They go mad, just as mad as they can be

No matter where I'm at, all the fellows thin or fat

The tall ones, the small ones, I grab them off like that

Every night how they fight over me

I don't know what it is that they can see

The fellows look at me and sigh, in my arms they want to die

They go wild, simply wild, over me

I meet so many funny men, no matter where I go

They're waiting in a row, they seem to love me so

There's lots of girlies go with boys but never get their drift

I seem to understand them, why, it's just a natural gift

They go wild, simply wild, over me

They go mad, just as mad as they can be

No matter where I'm at, all the fellows thin or fat

The tall ones, the small ones, why, I grab them off like that

Every night how they fight over me

I don't know what it is that they can see

Why I can never be alone, I have to choke the telephone

They go wild, simply wild, over me

They go wild, simply wild, over me

They go mad, just as mad as they can be

I meet so many kind, I leave a few behind

They love me, they kiss me, why, I guess they must be blind

Every night how they fight over me

I don't know what it is that they can see

I'm very skinny I'll admit but when I when I smile just a smidge

They go wild, simply wild, over me

***

Whatever that guy had in the last song, the man in the next song clearly lacked. To Any Girl by the hugely successful and prolific lyricist Lew Brown with music by the equally successful and prolific Albert Von Tilzer (whose most famous song was Take Me Out To The Ballgame). This song is a lament, for the young lover has no girl to write to. Any girl will do...as long as she cooks and sews and is true.

 I found a picture postal card while on the street today.
A lovesick fellow wrote it, and here's what he had to say,
"O haven't any sweetheart, so I don't know what to do,
I wish I had a girl to send this to.
I won't put on an address, I won't put on a name,
But still I'm going to send it just the same.

To any girl who's feeling lonesome,
To any girl who's feeling blue,
I write these lines today
here's what I have to say
I've got a lot of loving that I'd like to give away,
To any girl who'll love me only
To any girl who will be true,
But if you have a beau,
Is there any girl you know
who's not as lucky as you.

He says he wanta a girl who sews and one who also cooks,
But then he doesn't mention anything about her looks
The boy is not particular,
I think that he's in wrong,
For he'll take any girl who comes along,
He can't expect an answer, 
He doesn't make it plain,
I'll have to read the postal card again. (Chorus) 

***

Harry Von Tilzer, Albert's brother, often worked with Andrew B. Sterling including on this 1915 song, Those Musical Eyes, about Ragtime sex appeal.

Stirling and Von Tilzer are my favorite pair to collect. Learn more about Von Tilzer at The Parlor Songs Academy.

Two big eyes that shine, won this heart of mine,
"Want you near me," they say and sweet is the music they play,
O those great big eyes how they harmonize, 
Even when we're apart, 
They play on the strings of my heart
Ragtime love tunes till I'm almost crazy,
Those "G sharp" eyes they seem to play for me.

Oh, those eyes, those great big musical eyes,
Such "harmony" lies, 
In those sweet "Come and kiss me" eyes
"Say you'll miss me," eyes, 
Roll them, roll them, roll them up to the skies,
Each glance at me, a "Rhapsody,"
Oh, those eyes they say "come on...and spoon!"
Oh, those eyes they play a wedding tune,
Oh, the love that lies and lies, In those musical eyes!

When I'm feeling bad, when I'm feeling sad,
Everything has gone wrong
those eyes, play the cheerfullest song,
They just look at me, strike a chord in "C"
sorrow puts on his hat, 
Those eyes soon will sing in "A Flat"
Every glance starts my heart beating "Forte," (Chorus)