Won't You Come Home Bill Bailey    (1902)

One summer's day
Sun was shinin' fine
The lady love of old Bill Bailey
Was hangin' clothes on the line
In her back yard
And weepin' hard
She married a B&O brakeman
That took and throwed her down
Bellerin' like a prune-fed calf
With a big gang hanging round
And to that crowd
She hollered loud

Won't you come home, Bill Bailey
Won't you come home?
She moans the whole day long
I'll do the cookin', darling
I'll pay the rent
I know I've done you wrong
'member that rainy eve that
I threw you out
With nothing but a fine-tooth comb?
I know I'm to blame
Well, ain't that a shame
Bill Bailey won't you please come home

Bill drove by that door
In an automobile
A great big diamond, coach and footman
Hear that lady squeal
He's all alone
I heard her groan
She hollered through the door
Bill Bailey, is you sore?
Stop a minute, listen to me
Won't I see you no more?
Bill winks his eye
As he heard her cry:

Won't you come home, Bill Bailey
Won't you come home?
She moans the whole day long
I'll do the cookin', darling
I'll pay the rent
I know I've done you wrong
'member that rainy eve that
I threw you out
With nothing but a fine-tooth comb?
I know I'm to blame
Well, ain't that a shame
Bill Bailey won't you please come home

Lyrics by Hughie Cannon.
Recorded by Bobby Darin (1960); and many others.
Traditional arranged by Bobby Darin (1960)
Released by Patsy Cline (1964)
Louis Armstrong recorded this song in Paris (1965)


Lyrics are provided for informational and educational purposes only. Lyrics are
subject to all U.S. copyright laws and remain property of their respective owners.