She May Have Seen Better Days / She's More to Be Pitied Than Censured / Let Her Sleep Under the Bar - Octoberfest
While strolling along
With the city's vast throng
On a night that was bitterly cold
I noticed a crowd
Who were laughing aloud
At something they chanced to behold
I stopped for to see
What the object could be
And there on a doorstep lay
A woman in tears
From the crowd's angry jeers
And then I heard somebody say
She may have seen better days
When she was in her prime
She may have seen better days
Once upon a time
Though by the wayside she fell
She may yet mend her ways
Some poor old mother is waiting
For her who has seen better days
Though by the wayside she fell
She may yet mend her ways
Some poor old mother is waiting
For her who has seen better days
At the old concert hall on the Bowery
'Round a table were seated one night
A crowd of young fellows carousing
With them life seemed cheerful and bright
At the very next table was seated
A girl who had fallen to shame
All the young fellows jeered at her weakness
Till they heard an old woman explain
She is more to be pitied than censured
She is more to be helped than despised
She is only a lassie who ventured
On life's stormy path ill-advised
Do not scorn her with words fierce and bitter
Do not laugh at her shame and downfall
For a moment just stop and consider
That a man was the cause of it all
'Twas a cold winter's evening
The guests were all leaving
Oh Leary was closing the bar
When he turned and he said
To the lady in red
Get out
You can't stay where you are
She shed a sad tear in her bucket of beer
As she thought of the cold night ahead
When a gentleman dapper stepped
Out of the phone booth
And these are the words that he said
Her mother never told her
The things a young girl should know
About the ways of college men
And how they come and go
Age has taken her beauty
And sin has left its sad scar
So remember your mothers and sisters boys
And let her sleep under the bar
Her mother never told her
The things a young girl should know
About the ways of college men
And how they come and go
Age has taken her beauty
And sin has left its sad scar
So remember your mothers and sisters boys
And let her sleep under the bar
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