A popular song from 1926
Words and music by Inez Templeton
The sheet music:
Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:
Lyrics
- You lied all the way thru
You lied about everything you do
I didn’t care when you called the cook honey
But oh, papa, when you lied about your money
You’d even take a solemn oath and hope you’d die
You are going to, papa, that ain’t no lie
Chorus
Lyin’ papa, you ain’t gonna lie no more
For I’m all fed up proper
And I’m good and sore
You had better make out your will
For I’m gonna shoot and shoot to kill
You gonna still lie, but be lyin’ still
- You’d come home every night after dark
Said you’d been feeding fishes at the park
You’d smell just like a bunch a still
Says doctor’s orders, ’cause I was feelin’ awful ill
But when I found the red hair on your coat
You just oughtta not come, you just oughtta wrote - My lyin’ papa is an insurance man
If they can’t tell ‘um, nobody can
You always said a man should provide
His wife with a policy when he died
So, pay yours up, papa in advance
For you’ve had yours, now I’ll have my chance