Uncouth Reflections

Blowhard, Esq. writes:

Published in 1916.

Nobody ever sings about the bad girls, because the bad girls are sad,
And ev’ry body sings about the good girls, because the good girls are glad.
Till you’ve been round ‘em once or twice, you can’t tell the naughty from the nice.

There’s a little bit of bad in ev’ry good little girl, they’re not to blame.
Mother Eve was very, very good, but even she raised Cain.
I know the preacher’s daughter, who never orders water,
There’s a little bit of bad in ev’ry good little girl,
They’re all the same, there’s a 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 ev’ry 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 ev’ry good little girl,
They’re all the same, there’s a same.