Victorian Music Hall Songs

Oxford Music Hall
The Oxford Music Hall

The Music Hall was a very popular form of theatre entertainment from 1850 and included popular songs, comedy, and variety acts. Special halls were built to accommodate the growing audiences, providing patrons with a bar-style setting so that they could consume food and alcohol during performances. While conventional theatres had seats in rows and the alcohol was served in a separate bar, the music hall was a more relaxed setting and popular with the working classes.

Marie Lloyd
Marie Lloyd

Some of the performers became stars and perhaps Marie Lloyd was one of the most famous. To cater for the taste of the audiences new songs were written, some of which are still sung to this day. Many of the music halls were based in London.

After the First World War, music halls began to decline in popularity as jazz and swing came on the scene and by 1960 nearly all the music halls had gone, although a few have been preserved, notably the Hackney Empire, the Leeds City Varieties and the Alhambra in Bradford. These former music halls have been adapted for modern needs, but are mainly listed buildings. There are also a number of theatre groups that perform music hall entertainment in a wide variety of venues.

School Music Halls

Putting on a Victorian Music Hall event is a great way for children to learn about the Victorian period and songs could include some taken from the list below. Don't forget to include other entertainment acts such as monologues, instrumental recitals and displays of skills. Dancing could be included as long as it is suitable for the period. Comedy is also possible, but might be a little difficult to keep in period, but with a little imagination a great time can be had by participants and audience.

Music Hall Songs

Click title for details of each song

Any Old Iron

The song was made popular by the music hall artist Harry Champion. To understand it you might need to know what these words mean:

  • Kicked the bucket - died
  • Derby kell - stomach (Cockney rhyming slang: Derby Kelly - belly)
  • A swell - a fashionably elegant or stylish person
  • Any old iron - this was the cry of the rag and bone (scrap) man
  • Dial - face
  • Napper - head
  • Tile - hat

The song should be sung dressed as a Victorian gentleman

Just a week or two ago my dear old Uncle Bill,
He went and kicked the bucket and he left me in his will.
So I went around the road to see my Auntie Jane.
She said, "Your Uncle Bill has left you a watch and chain."
So I put it on right across my derby kell.
The sun was shining on it and it made me look a swell.
I went out, strolling round about.
A crowd of kiddies followed me and they began to shout:

"Any old iron? Any old iron?
Any, any, any old iron?
You look neat. Talk about a treat!
You look so dapper from your napper to your feet.
Dressed in style, brand-new tile,
And your father's old green tie on.
But I wouldn't give you tuppence for your old watch and chain,
Old iron, old iron."

I won't forget the day I went to London on the spree.
I saw the mayor of London there. That's who I went to see.
He came along in a carriage and a pair.
I shouted, "Come on, boys! All throw your hats up in the air."
Just then the mayor, he began to smile,
Pointed to my face and said, "Lor Lummy, what a dial!"
Started Lord-a-mayoring, and then to my dismay,
He pointed to my watch and chain and shouted to me, "Hey,
Any old iron? ..."

I shan't forget the day I married Miss Elisa Brown.
The way the people laughed at me, it made me feel a clown.
I arrived in a carriage called a hack,
When I suddenly discovered I'd my trousers front to back.
So I walked down the aisle, dressed in style,
The vicar took a look at me and then began to smile.
The organ started playing. The bells began to ring.
The people started laughing and the choir began to sing,
"Any old iron? ..."

Boiled Beef and Carrots

This is another song popularly sung by Harry Champion. Strictly speaking, this is not Victorian as it was published in 1909.

Again Derby kell means stomach, and blow out your kite is a phrase meaning to fill your stomach.

Harry Champion
Harry Champion


Boiled beef and carrots,
Boiled beef and carrots,
That's the stuff for your "Derby kell",
Makes you fit and keeps you well.
Don't live like vegetarians
On food they give to parrots,
Blow out your kite, from morn' 'til night,
On boiled beef and carrots.

The Boy I Love is Up in the Gallery

This song was written in 1885 for a music hall star called Nelly Power, but it was made popular by one of the most famous music hall stars, Marie Lloyd.

I'm a young girl, and have just come over,
Over from the country where they do things big,
And amongst the boys I've got a lover,
And since I've got a lover, why I don't care a fig.

The boy I love is up in the gallery,
The boy I love is looking now at me,
There he is, can't you see, waving his handkerchief,
As merry as a robin that sings on a tree.

The boy that I love, they call him a cobbler,
But he's not a cobbler, allow me to state.
For Johnny is a tradesman and he works in the Boro'
Where they sole and heel them, whilst you wait.

The boy I love is up in the gallery,
The boy I love is looking now at me,
There he is, can't you see, waving his handkerchief,
As merry as a robin that sings on a tree.

Now, If I were a Duchess and had a lot of money,
I'd give it to the boy that's going to marry me.
But I haven't got a penny, so we'll live on love and kisses,
And be just as happy as the birds on the tree.

The boy I love is up in the gallery,
The boy I love is looking now at me,
There he is, can't you see, waving his handkerchief,
As merry as a robin that sings on a tree.

Daddy Wouldn't Buy Me a Bow Wow

This little song was popular with children and was first performed in 1892 by Vesta Victoria, a popular music hall artiste. She held a kitten in her hands as she sang.

I love my little cat, I do
With soft black silky hair
It comes with me each day to school
And sits upon the chair
When teacher says "why do you bring
That little pet of yours?"
I tell her that I bring my cat
Along with me because—

Daddy wouldn't buy me a bow-wow! Bow wow!
Daddy wouldn't buy me a bow-wow! Bow wow!
I've got a little cat
And I'm very fond of that
But I'd rather have a bow-wow
Wow, wow, wow, wow.

We used to have two tiny dogs
Such pretty little dears
But daddy sold 'em 'cause they used
To bite each other's ears
I cried all day: at eight each night
Papa sent me to bed
When Ma came home and wiped my eyes
I cried again and said—

Daddy wouldn't buy me a bow-wow! Bow wow!
Daddy wouldn't buy me a bow-wow! Bow wow!
I've got a little cat
And I'm very fond of that
But I'd rather have a bow-wow
Wow, wow, wow, wow.

I'll be so glad when I get old
To do just as I "likes"
I'll keep a parrot and at least
A half a dozen tykes
And when I've got a tiny pet
I'll kiss the little thing
Then put it in its little cot
And on to it I'll sing—

Daddy wouldn't buy me a bow-wow! Bow wow!
Daddy wouldn't buy me a bow-wow! Bow wow!
I've got a little cat
And I'm very fond of that
But I'd rather have a bow-wow
Wow, wow, wow, wow.

Daisy Bell

Perhaps better known as "A Bicycle Built for Two", this song, written in 1892 is still popular. It has even appeared in a number of films, and has also been parodied. It was also the first song to be sung by a computer using speech synthesis in 1961 and was witnessed by Arthur C Clarke, who used the same song in the film 2001: A Space Odyssey, where it is sung by HAL 9000.

There is a flower within my heart
Daisy, Daisy
Planted one day by a glancing dart
Planted by Daisy Bell
Whether she loves me or loves me not
Sometimes it's hard to tell
Yet I am longing to share the lot
Of beautiful Daisy Bell

Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do
I'm half crazy, all for the love of you
It won't be a stylish marriage
I can't afford the carriage
But you'll look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two

We will go tandem as man and wife
Daisy, Daisy
Wheeling our way down the road of life
I and my Daisy Bell
When the night's dark, we both despise
Policemen and lamps as well
There are bright lights in the dazzling eyes
Of beautiful Daisy Bell.

Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do
I'm half crazy, all for the love of you
It won't be a stylish marriage
I can't afford the carriage
But you'll look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two

I'll stand by you in wear or well
Daisy, Daisy
You'll be the bell which I'll ring you know
Sweet little Daisy Bell,
You'll take the lead in each trip we take
Then if I don't do well
I will permit you to use the brake
Beautiful Daisy Bell

Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do
I'm half crazy, all for the love of you
It won't be a stylish marriage
I can't afford the carriage
But you'll look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two

[sing twice]

Down at the Old Bull and Bush

This song, again was not Victorian as it was written in 1903, so strictly speaking it does not fall into the Victorian period. It was commissioned by a German brewing firm as a German drinking song for the beer gardens. It was adapted and Anglicised and then popularised by Florrie Ford, a music hall artiste. A London pub near Hampstead Heath, dating back to 1645, was named the Old Bull and Bush, and was a popular place for cockneys to visit on a day out, so the song was enthusiastically adopted by the British.

Talk about the shade of the sheltering palm
Praise the bamboo tree
With its wide spreading charm,
There's a little nook
Down near old Hampstead Town,
You know the place it has one great renown,
Often with my sweetheart on a bright Summer's day,
To the little pub there my footsteps will stray,
If she hesitates when she looks at the sign,
Promptly I whisper, "Now do not decline."

Come, come, come and make eyes at me
Down at the Old Bull and Bush,
Da, da, da, da, da,
Come, come, drink some port wine with me,
Down at the Old Bull and Bush,
Hear the little German Band,
Da, da, da, da, da,
Just let me hold your hand dear,
Do, do come and have a drink or two
Down at the Old Bull and Bush.

Do, do, come and have a drink or two
Down at the Old Bull and Bush,
Bush, Bush!

Goodbye, Dolly Gray

This song was widely sung in the Boer War in the late Victorian period. It was recorded in 1901 by a Canadian singer, Harry MacDonough. The song is perhaps better known today from WWI.

I have come to say goodbye, Dolly Gray
It's no use to ask me why, Dolly Gray
There's a murmur in the air, you can hear it everywhere
It is the time to do and dare, Dolly Gray.

Don't you hear the tramp of feet, Dolly Gray
Sounding through the village street, Dolly Gray
'Tis the tramp of soldiers' true, in their uniforms so blue
I must say goodbye to you, Dolly Gray

Goodbye Dolly I must leave you, though it breaks my heart to go
Something tells me I am needed, at the front to fight the foe
See, the boys in blue are marching and I can no longer stay
Hark, I hear the bugle calling, Goodbye Dolly Gray

Hear the rolling of the drums, Dolly Gray
Back from war the regiment comes, Dolly Gray
On your lovely face so fair, I can see a look of fear
For your soldier boy's not there, Dolly Gray

For the one you love so well, Dolly Gray
In the midst of battle fell, Dolly Gray
With his face toward the foe, as he died he murmured low,
"I must say goodbye and go, Dolly Gray"

Goodbye Dolly I must leave you, though it breaks my heart to go
Something tells me I am needed at the front to fight the foe
See, the boys in blue are marching and I can no longer stay
Hark, I hear the bugle calling, Goodbye Dolly Gray

I'm Henery the Eighth, I Am

Again this isn't strictly speaking a Victorian song, as it was written in 1910. It was sing by the music hall star, Harry Champion. Note that Henry is pronounced in the cockney way with the h aspirate. Although it might be thought at first that the song is about the king, Henry VIII, of course this is part of the fun.

I'm Henry, the eighth, I am
Henry, the eighth, I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She's been married seven times before
And every one was an Henry (Henry)
She wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam (Nor a Sam)
I'm her eighth old man, named Henry
Henry, the eighth, I am

(Repeat)
Oh, Mr. Porter

This song, written in 1892, was sung by both Marie Lloyd and Nora Blaney in 1893. As with many music hall songs there was a certain amount of innuendo, that would have been enjoyed by the audiences of the day.

Lately I just spent a week with my old Aunt Brown,
Came up to see wond'rous sights of famous London Town.
Just a week I had of it, all round the place we'd roam
Wasn't I sorry on the day I had to go back home?
Worried about with packing, I arrived late at the station,
Dropped my hatbox in the mud, the things all fell about,
Got my ticket, said 'good - bye' "Right away." the guard did cry,
But I found the train was wrong and shouted out:

Oh! Mister Porter, what shall I do?
I want to go to Birmingham
And they're taking me on to Crewe,
Send me back to London as quickly as you can,
Oh! Mister Porter, what a silly girl I am!

The porter would not stop the train, But I laughed and said "You must
Keep your hair on, Mary Ann, and mind that you don't bust'."
Some old gentleman inside declared that it was hard,
Said "Look out of the window, Miss, and try and call the guard."
Didn't I, too, with all my might, I nearly balanced over,
But my old friend grasp'd my leg, and pulled me back again,
Nearly fainting with the fright, I sank into his arms a sight,
Went into hysterics but I cried in vain:

Oh! Mister Porter, what shall I do?
I want to go to Birmingham
And they're taking me on to Crewe,
Send me back to London as quickly as you can,
Oh! Mister Porter, what a silly girl I am!

On his clean old shirt-front then I laid my trembling head,
"Do take it easy, rest awhile" the dear old chappie said.
If you make a fuss of me and on me do not frown,
You shall have my mansion, dear, away in London Town.
Wouldn't you think me silly if I said I could not like him?
Really he seemed a nice old boy, so I replied this way;
I will be your own for life, Your I-may-doodle-um little wife,
If you'll never tease me any more I say.

Oh! Mister Porter, what shall I do?
I want to go to Birmingham
And they're taking me on to Crewe,
Send me back to London as quickly as you can,
Oh! Mister Porter, what a silly girl I am!

Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay

Although this song has been adapted and widely used for over a hundred years, it is a little unclear where it came from, or who wrote it. It was used in an 1891 show called Tuxedo. A version was performed by Lottie Collins at the Tivoli Music Hall in The Strand in 1891. It was rather saucy, typical of the music hall tradition.

1.

A smart and stylish girl you see,
Belle of good society;
Not too strict, but rather free,
Yet as right as right can be!
Never forward, never bold--
Not too hot and not too cold,
But the very thing, I'm told,
That in your arms you'd like to hold!

Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!

I'm not extravagantly shy,
And when a nice young man is nigh,
For his heart I have a try—
And faint away with tearful cry!
When the good young man, in haste,
Will support me round the waist;
I don't come to, while thus embraced,
Till of my lips he steals a taste!

Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!

I'm a timid flow'r of innocence,
Pa says that I have no sense--
I'm one eternal big expense;
But men say that I'm just immense!
Ere my verses I conclude,
I'd like it known and understood,
Tho' free as air, I'm never rude—
I'm not too bad and not too good!

Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!

You should see me out with Pa,
Prim, and most particular;
The young men say, "Ah, there you are!"
And Pa says, "That's peculiar!"
"It's like their cheek!" I say, and so
Off again with Pa I go—
He's quite satisfied—although,
When his back's turned—well, you know--

Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!

When with swells I'm out to dine,
All my hunger I resign;
Taste the food, and sip the wine—
No such daintiness as mine!
But when I am all alone,
For shortcomings I atone!
No old frumps to stare like stone—
Chops and chicken on my own!

Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!

Sometimes Pa, says, with a frown,
"Soon, you'll have to settle down—
Have to wear your wedding gown—
Be the strictest wife in town!"
Well, it must come by-and-by—
When wed, to keep quiet I'll try;
But till then I shall not sigh,
I shall still go in for my—

Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay,
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay!

The Man Who Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo

Written in 1892, the song is based on the true story of gambler and confidence trickster, Charles Wells, who won over 1 million francs, a massive fortune at the time. It was popularised by Charles Coborn, a singer and entertainer. He reckoned, through his lifetime, that he sang the song 250,000 times, and had performed it in 14 languages.

I just got here from Paris from the sunny southern shore,
I to Monte Carlo went, just to raise my winter's rent
Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she'd never done before
And I've now such lots of money, I'm a gent.
Yes, I've now such lots of money I'm a gent.

As I walk a long the Bois de Boulogne
With an independent air,
You can hear the girls declare,
He must be a millionaire,
You can hear them sigh and wish to die,
You can see them wink the other eye
At the man that broke the bank at Monte Carlo.

I stay indoors till after lunch and then my daily walk
To the great Triumphal Arch is one grand triumphal march.
Observed by each observer with the keenness of a hawk
I'm a mass of money, linen, silk and starch
I'm a mass of money, linen, silk and starch.

I patronised the table at the Monte Carlo hell
Till they hadn't got a sou for a Christian or a Jew
So I quickly went to Paris for the charms of mad'moiselle
Who's the darling of my heart - what can I do?
When with twenty tongues she swears that she'll be true.