To fink wot God would say about
The bloke I corpsed last night.
I ’ushed; I wilted wiv despair,
When, like a rosy flame,
I sees a angel standin’ there
’Oo calls me by me name.
’E ’ad such soft, such shiny eyes;
’E ’eld ’is ’and and smiled;
And through the gates o’ Paradise
’E led me like a child.
’E led me by them golden palms
Wot ’ems that jeweled street;
And seraphs was a-singin’ psalms,
You’ve no ideer ’ow sweet;
Wiv cheroobs crowdin’ closer round
Than peas is in a pod,
’E led me to a shiny mound
Where beams the throne o’ God.
And then I ’ears God’s werry voice:
“Bill ’agan, ’ave no fear.
Stand up and glory and rejoice
For ’im ’oo led you ’ere.”
And in a nip I seemed to see:
Aye, like a flash o’ light,
My angel pal I knew to be
The chap I plugged last night.
Now, I don’t claim to understand–
They calls me Bonehead Bill;
