While The Billy BoilsSearchMy father-in-law is a careworn man,And a silent man is he;But he summons a smile as well as he canWhenever he meets with me.The sign we make with a silent shakeThat speaks of the days gone by—Like men who meet at a funeral—My father-in-law and I.
My father-in-law is a sober man(And a virtuous man, I think);But we spare a shilling whenever we can,And we both drop in for a drink.Our pints they fill, and we say, “Ah, well!”With the sound of the world-old sigh—Like the drink that comes after a funeral—My father-in-law and I.
My father-in-law is a kindly man—A domestic man is he.He tries to look cheerful as well as he canWhenever he meets with me.But we stand and think till the second drinkIn a silence that might implyThat we’d both get over a funeral,My father-in-law and I.