Don’t believe in fate,
Not a little bit;
Fate is awful stuff,
Don’t want none of it.
Lost my pocketbook,
Held my ev’ry red;
Told a lazy cop,
“That is fate,” he said.
Called a man a liar,
Nearly killed me dead;
Hospital six months
“Fate” the doctor said.
c. Aug. 10, 1900
‘red’
– a
twenty dollar bill:
It appears that this is only
the first page of this lyric.
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