I'm a maker of ballads right pretty I write them right here in the street You can buy them all over the city Yours for a penny a sheet I'm a word pecker out of the printers I'll write up a scene on a counter - confessions and sins in the main, boys Confessions and sins in the main Then you'll find me in Madame Geneva's Keeping the demons at bay There's nothing like gin for drowning them in But they'll always be back on a hanging day They come rattling over the cobbles
They sit on their coffins of black Some are struck dumb, some gabble Top-heavy on brandy or sack The pews are all full of fine fellows And the hawker has set up her shop As they're turning them off at the gallows She'll be selling right under the drop, boys Selling right under the drop Then you'll find me in Madame Geneva's Keeping the demons at bay There's nothing like gin for drowning them in But they'll always be back on a hanging day