In a box of the stone jug I was born
Of a hempen widow the kid forlorn
And my father, as I've heard say
Was a merchant of capers gay
Who cut his last fling with great applause
For an hearty choke with caper sauce
The knucks in quod did my schoolmen play
And put me up to the time of day
Fake away, fake away
Nix my doll pals fake away
Until at last there was none so knowing
No such sneaksman or buzgloak going
Fogles and fawnies soon went their way
To the spout with the sneezers in grand array
No dummy hunter had forks so fly
No knuckler so deftly could fake a cly
No slourd hoxter my snipes could stay
None knap a reader like me in the lay
Soon then I mounted in swell street-high
And sported my flashest toggery
Fainly resolved I would make my hay
While mercury's star shed a single ray
And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig
With my strummel faked in the newest twig
With my fawnied famms and my onions gay
My thimble of ridge and my driz chemisay
All my togs were so niblike and plash
Readily the queers screens I then could smash
But my nuttiest blowen one fine day
To the beaks did her fancy-man betray
And thus was I bowled at last
And into the jug for a lag was cast
But I slipped my darbies one morn in May
And gave the dubsman a holiday
And here I am pals merry and free
A regular rollicking romany
