A norrible tale I'm going to tell
Of the woeful tragedy which befell
A family that once resided
In the very same thoroughfare as I did;

Indeed it is a norrible tale,
'Twill make your faces all turn pale,
And your cheeks with tears will be overcome,
Tweedle twaddle, tweedle twaddle twum.

The father in the garden went to walk,
And he cut his throat with a piece of chalk;
The mother, at this was so cut-up
She drowned herself in the water-butt.

The eldest sister, on bended knees
Strangled herself with toasted cheese;
The eldest brother, a charming fella,
Blew out his brains with a gingham umbrella.

The innocent infant lying in the cradle,
Shot itself dead with a silver ladle;
And the maid-servant, not knowing what she did,
Strangled herself with the saucepan lid.

The cat sitting down by the kitchen fire,
Chewed up the fender and did expire;
And a fly on the ceiling - the case is the worst 'un -
Blew itself up with spontaneous combustion.

Now this here family of which I've sung,
If they had not died should have all been hung;
For had they ne'er done themselves any wrong
Why, they might have been here to have heard this song.