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At Trinity Church I met my doom

By Fred Gilbert. Sung by Tom Costello

Twelve months ago with decent chances,
Prospects of success in life,
Thro’ foolish love of ballroom dances,
Trouble came I met my wife;

Such a noble buxom creature
She in my eyes then appeared,
False she was, though fair of feature,
Like a salmon I was speared.

She told me her age was five-and-twenty,
Cash in the bank of course she’d plenty,
I like a lamb believed it all,
I was an M-U-G.

At Trinity Church I met my doom,
Now we live in a top back room,
Up to my eyes in debt for ‘ren-ty’,
That’s what she’s done for me.

In bridal dress with frills and flounces,
’Pon my word she did look fine!
Quite sixteen stone and some odd ounces
Weighed then this dear wife of mine.

People whispered she had money
(Oh! what tales some folks will tell,)
She was simply sixteen stoney
What a swindle - what a sell!


When she confessed I’d scarce believe her,
Though at last the truth she told;
She hadn’t got a blooming stiver –
She was thirty six years old.

I can only grin and bear it;
Poor indeed is my estate,
She, poor gal, is forced to share it,
Down will drop her mortal weight.