Why Daddy Misbehaved Poem by Faith Elizabeth Brigham

I went down to the graveyard
just to see my daddy's grave.
I went down to the graveyard
just to see my daddy's grave.
They say it was the whiskey
made my poor daddy misbehave.

Momma used to hollar,
'Don't you go sneakin' out the house.'
Momma used to hollar,
'Don't you go sneakin' out the house.'
But daddy he was quiet, yes
He was quiet as a mouse.

Momma said, 'He's better dead.
You know he never learned to live,
Momma said, 'He's better dead.
You know he never learned to live,
He was just a low-down daddy
getting good at telling fibs'.