What reason could I have to ever want Drood dead? Why would I want to harm a hair upon his head? But I'm the candidate you rowdy lot have chose - And so my motives now I fear I must disclose After Jasper laid his nephew in the crypt, he fled! With quarts of port, to Drood I drank a toast When I heard him moaning, groaning, in my drunken head I thought Drood was a ghost! Then He started screamin' Just like a demon - It was a dreadful cry! Drunken stiff, my mind did hear it As a different kind of spirit So I bashed him, smashed him. . The murderer am I! Much thanks, goodbye!