GO VAY, BECKY MILLER.
By Charles Connelly
Go vay, Becky Miller,  go vay!
I don't lofe you not von schmall leedle bit,
My dream vas played oudt,  so blease git up and git,
Your false-hearted vays I can't got along mit,
   Go vay, Becky Miller,  go vay!

Vas all dot young voomans false-hearted like you,
Mit a face nice and bright, but a heart plack -- und plue,
Und all de time shvearing you lofed me so, too!
   Go vay, Becky Miller,  go vay!

You took all de presents vat I did present,
Yes, gobbled up efery blamed ting vat I sent;
All de time mit anoder young rooster you vent,
   Go vay, Becky Miller,  go vay!

Vhy, once I t'ought you a shtar vay up high,
Und den for your sake I vould villingly die;
But, oh, Becky Miller, you have proved one big lie,
   Go vay, Becky Miller,  go vay!

Vhen first I found out you vas such a big lie,
It hurt me so bad I t'ought I should die;
But now vas a change, und I don't efen cry,
   Go vay, Becky Miller,  go vay!

Don't try make believe you vas sorry about,
I don't pelieve von vord vat comes out by your mout;
Und pesides I don't care, for you vas played out,
   Go vay, Becky Miller,  go vay!
 
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