Tell me about my Saviour--tell me that tale agen,
How he prayed for the coves as killed him, and died for the worst of men.
It's a tale as I always liked, sir; and bound for the 'ternal shore,
I thinks it aloud to myself, sir, and I likes it more and more.
I've thumbed it out in the Bible, and I know it now by heart,
And it's put the steam in my boiler, and made me ready to start.
I ain't not afraid to die now; I've been a bit bad in my day,
But I know when I knock at them portals there's one as won't say me nay.
And it's thinkin' about that story, and all as he did for us,
As make me so fond o' my dawg, sir; especially now I'm wus;
For a-savin' o' folks who'd kill us is a beautiful act, the which
I never heard tell on o' no one, 'cept o' him and o' that there bitch.
'Twas five years ago come Chrismus, maybe you remember the row,
There was scares about hydryphoby--same as there be just now;
And the bobbies came down on us costers--came in a reggerlar wax,
And them as 'ud got no license was summerned to pay the tax.
But I had a friend among 'em, and he come in a friendly way,
And he sez, 'You must settle your dawg, Bill, unless you've a mind to pay.'
The missus was dyin' wi' fever--I'd made a mistake in my pitch,
I couldn't afford to keep her, so I sez, 'I'll drownd the bitch.
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