12 - Broken Hearted Butcher Boy ?
I’m a broken hearted butcher boy,
In grief I’m arrayed,
In keeping the company of a young servant maid,
She lived on broadway the homes to keep clean,
In a gentleman’s family on Paddington Green.
Her eyes were as black as the pips of a pear,
No rose in the garden with her cheeks could compare,
Her hair hung in ringlets so beautiful and long,
I thought that she loved me but found I was wrong.
At last she got married that hard hearted girl,
T’was not to a duke nor t’was not to an earl,
T’was not to a vicount nor any such a cuss,
But a bow-legged conductor on a two-penny bus.
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