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Oh sad was the day for the little bisque doll,
For they cut all her stitches away, and found the seat of the terrible ache.
T'was a delicate task,
For none of the doctor's had ever before performed on a dolly's inside.
They tried to re-stuff her,
But didn't know how,
And this was her wail as she died...
I've got a pain in my sawdust.
That's what's the matter with me.
Something is wrong on my little inside,
I'm just as sick as can be.
Don't let me faint, Someone get a fan,
Someone please run for the medicine man,
Everyone hurry as fast as you can,
'Cause I've got a pain in my sawdust.