Saturday, April 17, 2010


The abess kicked the abram cove
down the steps into the street
he was a gentlemen of four outs
in love with a fireship, a round heeled wench
who taught at the floating school

he was beat all hollow
arsy varsey in the dust
the article yelled out the window
that he’s best angle for farthings
ere he returned

his brains were in his ballocks
and he beat Banaghan
to the admiral of the blue
thre was a fellow, slow dying of barrel fever
as sold him a pair of barking irons

when the bats flew out
he went for his chick-a-biddy
thinking for to play the blanket hornpipe
but he was born under a threepenny blanket
and bottle headed

the bran faced brat
was bread and butter fashion
with a black fly when he burst in
the old fellow lept up
to lay cane upon abel

but ere he had his cauliflower on
abram lay his chitterlings out for washing
in come the cock,
and laid him in irons
and in the morrow
they set him to climb three trees with a ladder

the trull wore weeds for a week

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