Won't you come home, Bill Bailey, Won't you come home?
She moans the whole day long;
I'll do de cooking, darling I'll pay de rent,
I knows I've done you wrong.
'Member dat rainy eve dat I drove you out,
Wid nothin' but a fine tooth comb?
I knows I'se to blame, well, ain't data a shame?
Bill Baily, Won’t You Please Come Home?
