Have you heard o' one Humpty Dumpty? How he fell with a roll and a rumble Crawled up like lord Oliver Crumble As the boot of the magazine wall The magazine wall, hump helmet and all
He was one time our king of the castle Now he's kicked about like a rotten old parsnip And from Green Street he'll be sent By order of his worth ship To the penal jail of Mount Joy To the jail of Mount Joy, jail him with joy
He was for father of all things for to bother us Slow coaches and the market contraceptive for the metropolis Mayors milk for the sick Seven dry Sunday's a week Open air love and religion reform Religion reforms, so hideous and forms
And o' why says you couldn't he menage it I'll go bail me fine dearie mount darling Like the bumping bullet the Cassidy's All his butter's in his horns His butter's in his horns, butter his horns
Sweet Pad looks to the waves washed to old Ireland The hooker of the hammer fast Viking And gold's cursing the day that at Blanna bay Saw his black and tan men a war Saw his black and tan men a war, at the Harber bar
He was jointed by Wellington's monument O' a retorious hippo' po potomus When some bugger let down the back strap at the omnibus And he got his dead with of fusiliers When he's rented his rears, give em six years
Oh he'll have a free trade gaels banned in mass meeting For to saws that brave son of Scandinavery And we'll berry him down in Oxmond's Town Along with the devil and Dane's The death and dom Dane's, and all their remains
Now all the Kings men not his horses Could never resurrect his corpses For there's no true spell, in Curington hell That's able to raise a caneTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
