They say, old man, your horse will die.
And they say so; and we hope so.
They say, old man, your horse will die.
Oh, poor old man.

And if he dies then we'll tan his hide.
And if he dies then we'll tan his hide.

And if he lives then we'll ride again.
And if he lives then we'll ride again.

And it's after years of much abuse.
And we'll salt him down for the sailor's use.

He's as dead as a nail in the lamproom floor.
He's as dead as a nail in the lamproom floor.

And he won't bother us no more.
And he won't bother us no more.

And it's Sally's in the garden and she's pickin' peas. And her long black hair's hanging down to her knees.

And it's Sally's in the kitchen and she's bakin' the dough.
And the cheeks of her arse are going choff-choff-choff.

And it's down the long and the winding road.
And it's down the long and the winding road.

It's mahogany beef and the weevily bread.
It's mahogany beef and the weevily bread.

And I thought I heard the old man say.
Just one more pull and then we'll lay.

Just one more pull and that will do.
For we're the lads to kick her through.

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