As I
was a -walking,
I passed by a window,
And I saw an old woman,
the picture of gloom.
And this is the song
the old lady was humming,
As backwards and forwards
she wielded her broom.
Oh, life is a toil and love is a trouble
Beauty will fade and riches will flee
Pleasures they dwindle
and prices they double
And nothing is what we
could wish it to be
There's too much of sewing
goes into a bonnet
There's too much of ironing
goes into a shirt
There's nothing that's worth
all the time you waste on it
And nothing that'll last us
but trouble and dirt
So life is a toil and love is a trouble
Beauty will fade and riches will flee
Pleasures they dwindle
and prices they double
And nothing is what we
could wish it to be
Pull weeds all the summer,
break leaves in September
The midsummer breezes
are loaded with dust
It's snow all the winter,
and in rainy November
The wallpaper rots and
the candlesticks rust
So life is a toil and love is a trouble
Beauty will fade and riches will flee
Pleasures they dwindle
and prices they double
And nothing is what we could
wish it to be
The old woman grew tired of
sweepin' and scrubbin'
She laid down and died,
and I thought, was it just
That she who so long
had wielded the duster
Should herself in the end
be turned into dust
So life is a toil and love is a trouble
Beauty will fade and riches will flee
Pleasures they dwindle
and prices they double
And nothing is what we could wish it to be