8 And the sailors all, both great and small, Cries, Pat, you will go the devil. With my, &c.
Sumo fell upon their bended knees, The ladies fell a-fainting, But I fell to my bread and cheese, For I always mind the main thing. Says the sailors, to the bottom you'll go, Says I— I don't care a farthing, For I paid my passage to Margate you know, And be damned but I'll stick on my bargain. With my, &c.
The wind did whistle some to sleep, Till we got to the place of lauding, And those that were the most afraid, Were out the ladies landing. Says I, your clothes feel mighty droll, You surely must have riches, And for your heart, it don't lie in the right part, It surely must lie in your breeches, With my, &c.
Then for London I set out, And going along the road, sir, I met an honest gentleman, Who proved to be a rogue, sir He cocked a pistol to my head, Close to my very mouth, sir, Saying--Paddy my boy, I'd have you be smar. In handing out your money, sir. With my, &c.
