| Lyrics: | by Bob Dylan (arr)
1. Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,
As we went a-walkin'
down by the seaside,
Mark now what followed and what did betide,
For it bein' on Christmas
mornin'
Now, for recreation, we went on a tramp,
And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal
Vamp
And a little wee drummer intending to camp,
For the day bein' pleasant and
charmin'.
2. "Good morning, good morning," the Sergeant he cried.
"And the same to
you, gentlemen," we did reply,
Intending no harm but meant to pass by,
For it bein' on
Christmas mornin'
"But," says he, "My fine fellows, if you will enlist,
Ten guineas in
gold I'll stick to your fist,
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust,
And
drink the king's health in the morning.
3. "For a soldier, he leads a very fine
life,
And he always is blessed with a charming young wife,
And he pays all his debts
without sorrow or strife,
And he always lives pleasant and charmin',
And a soldier, he
always is decent and clean,
In the finest of clothing he's constantly seen.
While other
poor fellows go dirty and mean,
And sup on thin gruel in the
morning."
Instrumental
4. "But," says Arthur, "I wouldn't be proud of your
clothes,
For you've only the lend of them, as I suppose,
But you dare not change them one
night, for you know
If you do, you'll be flogged in the morning,
And although that we're
single and free,
We take great delight in our own company,
We have no desire strange
places to see,
Although that your offers are charming.
5. "And we have no desire to
take your advance,
All hazards and dangers we barter on chance,
For you'd have no scruples
for to send us to France,
Where we would get shot without warning,"
"Oh no," says the
Sergeant. "I'll have no such chat,
And neither will I take it from snappy young brats,
For
if you insult me with one other word,
I'll cut off your heads in the morning."
6.
And Arthur and I, we soon drew our hogs,
And we scarce gave them time to draw their own
blades
When a trusty shillelagh came over their head
And bid them take that as fair
warning.
And their old rusty rapiers that hung by their sides,
We flung them as far as we
could in the tide,
"Now take them up, devils!" cried Arthur McBride,
"And temper their
edge in the mornin'!"
7. And the little wee drummer, we flattened his bow,
And we
made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow,
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to roll,
And
bade it a tedious returning,
And we havin' no money, paid them off in cracks.
We paid no
respect to their two bloody backs,
And we lathered them there like a pair of wet
sacks,
And left them for dead in the morning.
8. And so, to conclude and to finish
disputes,
We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits,
For we were the lads who would give
them hard clouts
And bid them look sharp in the mornin'.
Instrumental
9.
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside,
Mark
now what followed and what did betide,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin |
