136
The Zankiwank
For what you ought to do,
And you should all be saying,
In fact of all things true
This pen will be bewraying.
And you should all be saying,
In fact of all things true
This pen will be bewraying.
So let us sing a roundelay—
Pop goes the Weazel;
Treacle’s four pence a pound to-day,
Which we think should please all.
Pop goes the Weazel;
Treacle’s four pence a pound to-day,
Which we think should please all.
What the chorus had to do with the song nobody knew, but they all sang it—everybody in the street, and all the customers in the shops as well, and even the policeman sang the last line.
You take it in your hand
And set yourself a-writing;
No matter what you’ve planned,
The truth ’twill be inditing.
And thus you cannot fail,
To speak your mind correctly,
And honestly you’ll sail,
But never indirectly.
And set yourself a-writing;
No matter what you’ve planned,
The truth ’twill be inditing.
And thus you cannot fail,
To speak your mind correctly,
And honestly you’ll sail,
But never indirectly.
