A fun novelty song from 1926
words and music by William Tracey, Hugh Aitken and Dinty Moore
One of the credited songwriters is Dinty Moore, who ran a popular Tin Pan Alley restaurant (where Milton Ager and many other songwriters ate). It seems like even if Dinty wasn’t a songwriter, this song likely describes one of his less-favorite customers!
The sheet music:
Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:
Lyrics
- There’s a nut named Willie White
Up the street from me
And he has an appetite
That’s freaky as can be
When he sees a restaurant
Dashes thru the door
They bring him shad, then he gets mad
And you should hear him roar
Chorus
“What! no spinach? Don’t tell me that
What! no spinach? Hand me my hat
I don’t care for onions
They hurt my bunions
Why don’t you try ’em on the cat
Oh! I wish that the fish that you gave me
Were down at the bottom of the sea
Gee! What! no spinach?
What! no spinach?
That’s the “finnitch” of me”
- All the waiters lose their nerve
Soon as he comes in
Everything they have they serve
But nothing pleases him
No one seems to understand
What it’s all about
But everyone starts to run
When he begins to shout
(extra choruses from 78 records by Ed Smalle & Jack Kaufman)
Chorus
What! No Spinach! (WNS)
How come no more?
WNS, where is the door?
Your nice home-made noodles
Are quite like kyoodles [look it up!]
They even make my bulldog sore, woof woof!
Oh, I wish that those tough apple dumplings
Were back on the old apple tree, gee!
WNS, WNS, well that’s the finish of me.
Chorus
WNS, don’t make me swear.
WNS, I’ll take the air.
I don’t like red cabbage, it makes me too savage;
Oh boy, it gets my goat, so there! Baa!
Oh, I wish that your chef had lumbago
For causing me all this misery, gee.
WNS, WNS, well that’s the finish of me.
Chorus
WNS, well I might have guessed.
WNS, then keep all the rest.
Cause I don’t crave potatoes, and stewed tomatoes
Don’t look so nifty on my vest, yuck!
I wish that you’d keep your watermelon
‘Cause it gives me water on the knee, gee
WNS, WNS, well that’s the finish of me.
Sung here by Laurence Rubenstein: