I've got a pain in my sawdust
That's what's the matter with me
Something is wrong with my little inside
I'm just as sick as can be
Don't let me faint, someone get me a fan
Someone else run for the medicine man
Ev'ryone hurry as fast as you can
I've got a pain in my sawdust


Oh, sad was the day for the little bisque doll
For they cut all her stitches away
and looked for the seat of the terrible ache
"'Twas a delicate task," they all say
For none of the surgeons had ever before
Performed on a dolly's inside
They tried to re-stuff her but didn't know how
And this was her wail as she died…


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