Found several years ago in the course of compiling the Christmas ghost volumes, a December 24th-published story of black humor regarding attempts murder and possible suicide concerning an earworm of its day.
"Because I wrote Ta-Ra-Ra" by Richard Morton
drive.google.com/file/d/1B-J6-yTQT7clOwa1x6M_jk5CHm5I7qNb/view?usp=sharingOthers thought it had more Christmas potential, however:
Anonymous
TA-RA-RA-CHRISTMAS DAY!
Old Times gone by—and none too fast,
And here's our Christmas Day at Last!
Away all care and trouble cast,
And bury quarrels with the past.
For Life's too short and love's too dear
To bother there and bother here:
Away with blues, and take good cheer,
For Christmas comes but once a year!
Ta-ra-ra-Christmas-Day!
With weary work away!
Let all be love and play,
For it is Christmas Day.
What though you've debts to pay,
As man can still be gay!
So shout the chorus, pray,
"Ta-ra-ra-Christmas-Day!"
Your wage is weak and small
(It may be but a quid, that's all)—
The shares you've bought have had a fall;
The broker's man sits in the hall
But let him sit, and brass demand!
He's not the sort of man to stand!
Your ship is sailing to this land,
So don't look glum and where's your hand?
"Ta-ra-ra-Christmas-Day, etc."
The luck may come; the luck may go—
It may be sun; it may be snow;
The "oof" may stop its inward flow,
But flow again—you never know!
Come, take the cup and sorrows drown;
You'll soon be up, though now you're down,
So smile away, and don't you frown,
But shout the chorus round the town—
"Ta-ra-ra-Christmas-Day!"
Salisbury Times and South Wilts Gazette. December 23, 1892: 2 col 3.