The Dubliners - Humpty Dumpty lyrics

Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty How he fell with a roll and a rumble And curled up like Lord Olofa Crumple By the bu*t of the Magazine Wall Of the Magazine Wall/Hump, helmet and all? He was one time our King of the Castle Now he's kicked about like a rotten old parsnip. And from Green Street he'll be sent by order of His Worship To the penal jail of Mountjoy To the jail of Mountjoy!/Jail him and joy. He was fafafather of all schemes for to bother us Slow coaches and immaculate contraceptives for the populace, Mare's milk for the sick, seven dry Sundays a week, Openair love and religion's reform, And religious reform/Hideous in form. Arrah, why, says you, couldn't he manage it? I'll go bail, me fine dairyman darling, Like the bumping bull of the Ca**idys All your bu*ter is in your horns His bu*ter is in his horns./bu*ter his horns! Hurrah there, Hosty, frosty Hosty, change that shirt on ye Hurrah there, Hosty, frosty Hosty, change that shirt on ye, Rhyme the rann, the king of all ranns! We had chaw chaw chops, chairs, chewing gum, The chicken pox and china chambers Universally provided by this soffsoaping salesman. Small wonder He'll Cheat E'erawan our local lads nicknamed him When Chimpden first took the floor With his bucketshop store Down Bargainweg, Lower. So snug he was in his hotel premises sumptuous But soon we'll bonfire all his trash, tricks and trumpery And 'tis short till sheriff Clancy'll be winding up his unlimited Company With the bailiff's bom at the door Bimbam at the door/Then he'll bum no more. Sweet bad luck on the waves washed to our island The hooker of the hammerfast viking And Gall's curse on the day when Eblana bay Saw his black and tan man-o'-war Saw his man-o'-war/On the harbour bar. 8. Where from? roars Poolbeg. Cookingha'pence, he bawls Donnez-moi Scampitle, wick an wipin'fampiny Fingal Mac Oscar Onesine Bargearse Boniface Thok's min gammelhole Norveegickers moniker Og as ay are at gammelhore Norveegickers cod. A Norwegian camel old cod./He is, begod. Lift it, Hosty, lift it, ye devil ye! up with the rann, the rhyming Rann! It was during some fresh water garden pumping Or according to the Nursing Mirror, while admiring the monkeys That our heavyweight heathen Humpharey Made bold a maid to woo Woohoo, what'll she doo! The general lost her maidenloo! He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher For to go and shove himself that way on top of her. Begob, he's the crux of the catalogue Of our antediluvial zoo Messrs. Billing and Coo. Noah's larks, good as no. He was joulting by Wellinton's monument Our rotorious hipppopopotamuns When some bugger let down the backtrap of the omnibus And he caught his d**h of fusiliers, With his rent in his rears./Give him six years. 'Tis sore pity for his innocent poor children But look out for his missus legitimate! When that frew gets a grip of old Earwicker Won't there be earwigs on the green? Big earwigs on the green, The largest ever you seen. Suffoclose! Shikespower! Suedodanto! Anonymoses! Then we'll have a free trade Gaels' band and ma** meeting For to sod the brave son of Scandiknavery And we'll bury him down in Oxmanstown Along with the devil and Danes, With the deaf and dumb Danes,/And all their remains. And not all the king's men nor his horses Will resurrect his corpus For there's no true spell in Connacht or hell