When Youre Bad In Your Inside

I remarked that man is saddest, and his heart is filled with woe,
When he hasnt any money, and his pants begin to go;
But I think I was mistaken, and there are many times I find
When you do not care a candle if your pants are gone behind;
For a fellow mostly loses all ambition, hope, and pride,
When, to put the matter mildly, he is bad in his inside.

Bobby Burns was down on toothache, and it troubled him no doubt;
But you know a man can always have a molar taken out,
And be all right then, excepting for the duller pain that comes
To the hollow that is lying like a gully in the gums.
But you cant extract your innards, they must stay within your hide,
And youve got to moan and cuss it, when youre bad in your inside.

You dunno what to take for it, you dunno what to do:
You are puzzled to remember what has disagreed with you,
You lie in all positions, there is none will give you ease;
And you think an aching stomach is the king of agonies.
You feel as though your innards in a double knot are tied,
While the devil ties it tighter, when youre bad in your inside.

Then you send that boy, that Harry, and you tell him to be quick,
For a shillings worth of brandy, for a person who is sick.
You make him swear to hurry, and he goes off like a shot;
But you wait an hour and suffer, and the brandy cometh not;
Then you look out through the window, and you swear to bust his hide,
For the wretch is playing football, while youre bad in your inside.

Then theres mostly some old woman, with your aunt or mother, too,
And its really quite indecent how she cross-examines you.
She insists on giving physic, and will hear of no excuse;
And dilates upon your bowels till you wish her to the deuce.
You wish shed go and leave you, let you be and let it slide,
And go about her business, when youre bad in your inside.

But shes come to see you through it, and she bustles in and out;
And she talks of private matters that she oughtnt talk about.
She proceeds to pill and dose you, and she vows that youll be ill
Till youve swallowed every nostrum, castor oil, and draught and pill,
And you wish, good Lord! that she would pass across the Stygian tide,
And nurse the gory Devil, when hes bad in his inside.

But the hag is interested, and she bustles out and in;
And in various disguises give you nauseous medicine.
Till shes shifted all obstructions, and has soothed your keenest pain
(Though her remedies may leave you a much sicker man again);
But shes done her best to help you, for her sympathy is wide,
And youll bless that same old woman when youre right in your inside.

Henry Lawson

Henry Lawson was an Australian writer and poet. Along with Banjo Paterson, he is among the best-known Australian poets and fiction writers of the colonial period and is often called Australia's 'greatest short story writer'. His works frequently document the lives and struggles of rural and outback Australians. Lawson's own life was marked by hardship and struggles including impaired hearing and financial difficulties, which influenced his realist depictions of Australian life. Some of his notable works include 'While the Billy Boils' and 'In the Days When the World was Wide.'

Henry Lawson

From The Bush

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

The Sorrows Of A Simple Bard

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

The Two Samaritans And The Tramp

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

Written Out

Henry Lawson, Simple Poetry

English

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Rejected

She says shes very sorry, as she sees you to the gate;
You calmly say Good-bye to her while standing off a yard,
Then you lift your hat and leave her, walking mighty stiff and straight,
But youre hit, old man, hit hard.

In your brain the words are burning of the answer that she gave,
As you turn the nearest corner and you stagger just a bit;
But you pull yourself together, for a mans strong heart is brave
When its hit, old man, hard hit.

You might try to drown the sorrow, but the drink has no effect;
You cannot stand the barmaid with her coarse and vulgar wit;
And so you seek the street again, and start for home direct,
When youre hit, old man, hard hit.

You see the face of her you lost, the pity in her smile,
Ah! she is to the barmaid as is snow to ...

Henry Lawson

The Peace Maker

It has a point of neither sex
But comes in guise of both,
And, doubly dangerous complex,
It is a thing to loathe,
A lady with her sweet, sad smile,
A gentleman on oath.

Strip off the mother-veil, and fur!
And signs of quiet taste.
The dead childs locket take from her
(The dead mans gift in haste)
And wash from every evil line
The layers of filling paste!

From saddened eyes the hells own glare!
From sweet mouth blasphemy!
Wrench out the gold-filled false teeth there
That twice mock honesty,
And leave the evil face awry
For married folk to see.

For foolish girl wives in despair,
For mens and childrens sakes,
Let loose the glossed and padded hair
To writhe like scorching snakes!
And strip the barren bod...

Henry Lawson

The Alleys

I was welcome in a palace when the ball was at my feet,
I was petted in a garden and my triumph was complete.
But for me above the alleys there forever shone a star,
Where the third-rate public houses and the dens of Venus are.
Where the third-rate public houses
And the fourth-rate lodging houses,
And the rag-shops and the pawn-shops and the dens of Venus are.

I was born among the alleys, bred in darkness and in doubt,
And I wrote the truth in blindness and I struggled up and out;
And the world was fair before me and the way was wide and plain,
But the spirit of the alleys ever dragged me back again.
Tis a madness I inherit
And a blind and reckless spirit.
Oh! the spirit of the alleys ever drags me down again!

There were fair girls in the garden where the s...

Henry Lawson

When Your Pants Begin To Go

When you wear a cloudy collar and a shirt that isn't white,
And you cannot sleep for thinking how you'll reach to-morrow night,
You may be a man of sorrows, and on speaking terms with Care,
And as yet be unacquainted with the Demon of Despair;
For I rather think that nothing heaps the trouble on your mind
Like the knowledge that your trousers badly need a patch behind.

I have noticed when misfortune strikes the hero of the play,
That his clothes are worn and tattered in a most unlikely way;
And the gods applaud and cheer him while he whines and loafs around,
And they never seem to notice that his pants are mostly sound;
But, of course, he cannot help it, for our mirth would mock his care,
If the ceiling of his trousers showed the patches of repair.

You are none the le...

Henry Lawson

The Tragedy

Oh, I never felt so wretched, and things never looked so blue
Since the days I gulped the physic that my Granny used to brew;
For a friend in whom I trusted, entering my room last night,
Stole a bottleful of Heenzo from the desk whereon I write.

I am certain sure he did it (though he never would let on),
For all last week he had a cold and to-day his cough is gone;
Now I'm sick and sore and sorry, and I'm sad for friendship's sake
(It was better than the cough-cure that our Granny used to make).

Oh, he might have pinched my whisky, and he might have pinched my beer,
Or all the fame or money that I make while writing here,
Oh, he might have shook the blankets and I'd not have made a row,
If he'd only left my Heenzo till the morning, anyhow.

So I've lost my faith ...

Henry Lawson

The Sorrows Of A Simple Bard

When I tell a tale of virtue and of injured innocence,
Then my publishers and lawyers are the densest of the dense:
With the blank face of an image and the nod of keep-it-dark
And a wink of mighty meaning at their confidential clerk.

(When, Oh! tell me when shall poets cease to be misunderstood?
When, Oh! When? shall people reckon rhymers can be any good?
Do their work and pay their debts and drink their pint of beer, and then,
Look in womans eyes and leave them, just like ordinary men?)

Is there literary friendship twix the sexes? dont you think?
And they wink their idiotic and exasperating wink.
Cant we kiss a clever woman without wanting any more?
And their clock-work nod is only more decided than before.

But if I should hint that theres a little wom...

Henry Lawson

When Youre Bad In Your Inside

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When Youre Bad In Your Inside