Two Songs from the Repertoire of John Goss

As I walked down the Broadway,
One evening in July,
I met a maid who asked my trade,
"A sailor John" says I.

Refrain:
  And away you Santee,
  My dear Annie.
  O, you New York girls,
  Can't you dance the polka!

To Tiffany's I took her,
I did not mind expense;
I bought her two gold earrings,
They cost me fifty cents.

(Refrain)

Says she, "You lime-juice sailor
Now see me home my way";
But when we reached her cottage door,
She unto me did say:

(Refrain)

"My flash man he's a Yankee
With his hair cut short behind;
He wears a tarry jumper
And he sails in the Blackball Line."

(Refrain)

The old baby farmer has been executed --
It's quite time that she was put out of the way.
She was a bad woman, it is not disputed,
Not a word in her favour can anyone say.

Refrain:
  The old baby farmer, the wretched Mrs Dyer, 
  At the Old Bailey her wages is paid. 
  In times long ago we'd have made a big fyer 
  And roasted so nicely that wicked old jade. 

It seems rather hard to run down a woman, 
But this one was hardly a woman at all; 
To get a fine living in a way so inhuman, 
Carousing in luxury on poor girls' downfall. 

(Refrain)

Poor girls who fell from the straight path of virtue --
What could they do with a child in their arms?
The fault they committed they could not undo,
So the baby was sent to the cruel baby farms.

(Refrain)

To all these sad crimes there must be an ending --
Secrets like these for ever can't last.
For say as you like, there is no defending
The horrible tales we have read in the past.

(Refrain)

What did she think as she stood on the gallows,
Poor little victims in front of her eyes?
Her heart, if she had one, must have been callous;
The rope round her neck -- how quickly time flies.

(Refrain)

Down through the trapdoor, quickly disappearing,
The old baby farmer to eternity home.
The sound of her own death-bell she was hearing,
The murderess of children was sent from this world.

(Refrain)