In London town I was bred and born;
In the Tyburn's Ground there I died of scorn.
I served my time to a saddler's trade
I was always counted but a roving blade.
For at seventeen I took a wife,
I loved her dearly as I loved my life.
All for to maintain her both fine and gay
I took up a-robbing on the King's Highway.
I robbed Lord Dukes, I do declare,
And lovely Nancy with the golden hair.
We shuttered up the shutters and bid them goodnight
Then we carried the gold to our heart's delight.
Through Covent Garden I made my way,
With my pretty blowen to see the play.
Till Fielding's gang did me pursue
Taken was I by the cursed crew.
When I am dead and carried to my grave
A pleasant funeral let me have:
Six highwaymen to carry me,
Give them broadswords and sweet liberty.
Six blooming girls to bear up my pall,
Give them white gloves and pink ribbons all.
And when I'm dead they may tell the truth:
There goes a wild and a wicked youth.
