VERSE VINDICTIVE
73
You would wallow around in the wealth o' the world,
Like a hog wi' its snout in the swill,
But we've upset your trough,
For you've sure had enough—
How d'ye like it, Bill?
Like a hog wi' its snout in the swill,
But we've upset your trough,
For you've sure had enough—
How d'ye like it, Bill?
You wanted a "place in the sun' was your plaint,
You could had it for us with a will;
We'll find you a place hotter far than the sun—
You are bound, my bold Wilhelm, for hell on the run—
How d'ye like it, Bill?
You could had it for us with a will;
We'll find you a place hotter far than the sun—
You are bound, my bold Wilhelm, for hell on the run—
How d'ye like it, Bill?
They do say that your hair is a-turning white,
And that you are looking ill—
Well, my pore mother is grey-haired too,
And I'm putting it down on account to you—
How d'ye like it, Bill?
And that you are looking ill—
Well, my pore mother is grey-haired too,
And I'm putting it down on account to you—
How d'ye like it, Bill?
