Tim The Dragoon (From 'Troy Town')
Be aisy an' list to a chune That's sung of bowld Tim the Dragoon-- Sure, 'twas he'd niver miss To be stalin' a kiss, Or a brace, by the light of the moon-- Aroon-- Wid a wink at the Man in the Moon! Rest his sowl where the daisies grow thick; For he's gone from the land of the quick: But he's still makin' love To the leddies above, An' be jabbers! he'll tache 'em the thrick-- Avick-- Niver doubt but he'll tache 'em the thrick! 'Tis by Tim the dear saints'll set sthore, And 'ull thrate him to whisky galore: For they 've only to sip But the tip of his lip An' bedad! they'll be askin' for more-- Asthore-- By the powers, they'll be shoutin' 'Ancore!'
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"Be aisy an' list to a chune..."
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