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.