Neglected

I DON'T get much attention now, Although I'm not complaining; I'm forced to get on anyhow, Another king is reigning. She doesn't run to wait on me, However rushed I may be, Whene'er I need assistance, she Is busy with the baby. Time was my shirts were all laid out And all my duds were handy; And those were days, without a doubt, When things were fine and dandy; But now the time she gave to me She's giving to another, It keeps her busy just to be A fond and doting mother. Oh, I cut quite a figure then, To something I amounted; I stood above all other men, With her, I, only, counted. Then, often I was petted, too, And cheered when things went badly; But now another's come to woo And I'm neglected sadly. And now I come and go each day, Just merely tolerated; And often I am in the way, As she has plainly stated. My wants I'm forced to fill myself, However hard it may be; Oh, I've been put upon the shelf, And put there by a baby. And yet upon that shelf I'd stay, And all complainings smother; The lad who took my wife away Has given me his mother. And every night I kneel and pray That never will the day be That I shall fail to hear her say: 'I'm busy with the baby!'