Merry singing to Pippen for fun while feasting.
It's little for glory I care;
Sure ambition is only a fable;
I'd soon be myself as Lord Mayor,
With pints of drink on the table.
I like to lie down in the sun,
And drink when my throat is scorchin',
That when I'm too old for more fun,
Why, I'll marry a wife with a fortune.
And in winter, with bacon and eggs,
And a place at the fireside basking,
Sip my ale as I roasted my legs,
Oh! never a more I'd be asking.
For I haven't a liken for work,
It was never the gift of the Brandies,
But I'd make a most legitimate Took,
For I'm fond of tobacco and ladies