Come all you bold heroes lend an ear to my song
I will sing you the praise of good brandy and rum
If the clear crystal fountains o'er England shall roll
Bring me the punch ladle, I'll fathom the bowl
I'll fathom the bowl,
I'll fathom the bowl,
Bring me the punch ladle, I'll fathom the bowl
From France we do get brandy from Jamaica comes rum
Sweet oranges and apples from Portugal come
But stout and strong cider are England's control
My wife she do disturb me as I sits at my ease
For she says as she likes and she does as she please
My wife she is a devil _ heart's black as the coal
My father he do lie in the depths of the sea
With no stone at his head but what matters for he
If the clear crystal fountains o'er England shall roll
Later less tradtional additional verses:
Consider Maggie Thatcher, the beast of the land,
She corrupts and destroys everything that's at hand
With landslide elections she taxes the poll
Prime Minister John Major, the greyest of men
Well he skulks and he hides down in old No.10
He closes our industry, throws us on the dole