Текст оригинала на английском языке
I thought I would go daft when Joey died. He was my first, and wise beyond his years. For nigh a hundred nights I cried and cried, Until my weary eyes burned up my tears. Willie and Rosie tried to comfort me: A woeful, weeping family were we. I was a widow with no friends at all, Ironing men's shirts to buy my kiddies grub; And then one day a lawyer came to call, Me with my arms deep in the washing-tub. The gentleman who ran poor Joey down Was willing to give us a thousand poun'. What a godsend! It meant goodbye to care, The fear of being dumped out on the street. Rosie and Willie could have wool to wear, And more than bread and margerine to eat... To Joey's broken little legs we owe Our rescue from a fate of want and woe. How happily he hurried home to me, Bringing a new-baked, crisp-brown loaf of bread. The headlights of the car he did not see, And when help came they thought that he was dead. He stared with wonder from a face so wan... A long, last look and he was gone,--was gone. We've comfort now, and yet it hurts to know We owe our joy to little, laughing Joe.
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