You know, news of you has come down the line;
Even before ya came in the door.;
They say in your father's house, there's many mansions;
Each one of them got a fireproof floor.

And now the heart is filled with gold;
As if it was a purse.;
But, oh, what kind of love is this;
Which goes from bad to worse?

I got a poison headache,;
But I feel all right