The Sausage Man.
.jpg)
Printed and Sold by E. Watts, 14, Snow Hill, Birmingham.
Tune....“Mother Dear”
There is a place called Birmingham,
The population great,
The toy-shop of the world, ’tis said,
With artizans elate.
Theres New street and a street called High,
You know ’tis fashions stroll,
There’s one that’s sure to meet your eye,
He calls out “Sausage Roll.”
“Sausuage Roll Sausuage Roll”
He calls out “Sausuage Roll.”
His apron ’tis as white as snow,
His whiskers they are red,
To all he makes a courteous bow,
And so he earns his bread.
He’s cap’d clean shirted, polish’d shoe,
As black as any coal,
His jacket strip’d with pink or blue.
He calls out “Sausage Roll.”
“Sausage Roll, Sausage Roll”
He calls out “Sausage Roll.”
Benson no more can please the taste,
The Civet Cat may close,
And Milliners and Drapers cast
Aw⟨ay⟩ Gloves, Lace and Hose.
The ladies have withdrawn from these,
They have upon my soul,
And patronise, yes, (if you please,)
This man with Sausage Roll.
“Sausage Roll, Sausage Roll,”
This man with Sausage Roll.
A pretty Miss with her mamma,
You cannot help the whim;
However dutiful some are,
Their fancies will begin.
To take an Ice, or Jelly Tart,
Mamma sought to control,
But nothing pleased the maiden fair
Like this man’s Sausage Roll.
Sausage Roll, Sausage Roll,
Like this man’s Sausage Roll.
I cannot tell if quantity
Effects so much his sale,
Or if it be the quality,
Or if his pleasing tale,
I cannot tell the reason why
This man he should not stroll,
And, male or female passing by,
Present his Sausage Roll.
Sausage Roll, Sausage Roll,
Present his Sausage Roll,
If mammas will fastidious be,
If Pappas would be blest,
If daughters do not always see,
Their truest interest,
If I now ask what can be right,
For ladies, on the whole,
I’d say don’t stop out late at night,
Or sigh for Sausage Roll.
Sausage Roll, Sausage Roll,
Or sigh for Sausage Roll
