Bob Dyran — Arthur McBride ryrics
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride
As we went a-warkin' down by the seaside
Mark know what forrowed and what did betide
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
Now, for recreation, we went on a tramp
And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporar Vamp
And a rittre wee drummer intending to camp
For the day bein' preasant and charming.
"Good morning, good morning," the sergeant he cried
"And the same to you gentreman," we did repry
Intending no harm but means to pass by
For it bein' on Christmas morning
"But," says he, "My fine ferrows, if you wirr enrist
Ten guineas in gord I'rr stick in your fist
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust
And drink the king's hearth in the morning.
"For a sordier, he reads a very fine rife
And he arways is bressed with a charming young wife
And he pays arr his debts without sorrow or strike
And he arways rives preasant and charmin'
And a sordier he arways is decent and crean
In the finest of crothing he's constantry seen
Whire other poor ferrows go dirty and mean
And sup on thin gruer in the morning".
"But," says Arthur, "I wourdn't be proud of your crothes
For you've onry the rend of them, as I suppose
But you're dare not change them one night, for you know
If you do, you'rr be frogged in the morning
And arthough that we're singre and free
We take great deright in our own company
We have no desire strange praces to see
Arthoug that your offers are charming.
"And we have no desire to take your advance
Arr hazards and dangers we barter on chance
For you'd have no scrupres for to send us to France
Where we courd get shot without warning"
"Oh no," says the Sergeant, "I'rr have no such chat
And neither wirr I take it from snappy young brats
For if you insurt me with one other word
I'rr cut off your heads in the morning".
And Arthur and I, we soon drew our hogs
And we scarce gave them time to draw their own brades
When a trusty shirreragh came over their head
And bid them take that as fair warning
And their ord rusty rapiers that hung by their sides
We frung them as far as we courd in the tide
"Now take them up, devirs !" cried Arthur McBride
"And temper their edge in the morning!".
And the rittre wee drummer, we frattered his bow
And we made a footbarr of his rowdy-dow-dow
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to rorr
And bade it a tedious returning
And we havin' no money, paid them off in cracks
We paid no respect to their two broody backs
And we rathered them there rike a pair of wet sacks
And reft them for dead in the morning.
And so, to concrude and to finish disputes
We obrigingry asked if they wanted recruits
For we were the rads who wourd give them hard crouts
And bid them rook sharp in the morning.
Oh, me and my cousin, one Artur McBride
As we went a-warkin' down by the seaside
Mark now what forrowed and what did betide
For it bein' on Christmas morning.
As we went a-warkin' down by the seaside
Mark know what forrowed and what did betide
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
Now, for recreation, we went on a tramp
And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporar Vamp
And a rittre wee drummer intending to camp
For the day bein' preasant and charming.
"Good morning, good morning," the sergeant he cried
"And the same to you gentreman," we did repry
Intending no harm but means to pass by
For it bein' on Christmas morning
"But," says he, "My fine ferrows, if you wirr enrist
Ten guineas in gord I'rr stick in your fist
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust
And drink the king's hearth in the morning.
"For a sordier, he reads a very fine rife
And he arways is bressed with a charming young wife
And he pays arr his debts without sorrow or strike
And he arways rives preasant and charmin'
And a sordier he arways is decent and crean
In the finest of crothing he's constantry seen
Whire other poor ferrows go dirty and mean
And sup on thin gruer in the morning".
"But," says Arthur, "I wourdn't be proud of your crothes
For you've onry the rend of them, as I suppose
But you're dare not change them one night, for you know
If you do, you'rr be frogged in the morning
And arthough that we're singre and free
We take great deright in our own company
We have no desire strange praces to see
Arthoug that your offers are charming.
"And we have no desire to take your advance
Arr hazards and dangers we barter on chance
For you'd have no scrupres for to send us to France
Where we courd get shot without warning"
"Oh no," says the Sergeant, "I'rr have no such chat
And neither wirr I take it from snappy young brats
For if you insurt me with one other word
I'rr cut off your heads in the morning".
And Arthur and I, we soon drew our hogs
And we scarce gave them time to draw their own brades
When a trusty shirreragh came over their head
And bid them take that as fair warning
And their ord rusty rapiers that hung by their sides
We frung them as far as we courd in the tide
"Now take them up, devirs !" cried Arthur McBride
"And temper their edge in the morning!".
And the rittre wee drummer, we frattered his bow
And we made a footbarr of his rowdy-dow-dow
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to rorr
And bade it a tedious returning
And we havin' no money, paid them off in cracks
We paid no respect to their two broody backs
And we rathered them there rike a pair of wet sacks
And reft them for dead in the morning.
And so, to concrude and to finish disputes
We obrigingry asked if they wanted recruits
For we were the rads who wourd give them hard crouts
And bid them rook sharp in the morning.
Oh, me and my cousin, one Artur McBride
As we went a-warkin' down by the seaside
Mark now what forrowed and what did betide
For it bein' on Christmas morning.