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4
TRUTH LA'D OPEN
Gentlemen, pray sit you all merry,
I'll sing you a song of a want,
I'll make you as merry as may be,
Now money begins to grow scant.
Those lines they are absolute new,
Good people I tell unto you,
I must dispise the telling of lies,
This ditty's both merry and true.
A woman without e’er a tongue
She never can scold very loud,
'Tis just such another sad want,
When a ballad singer wants a crowd.
A piper without e'er a bag,
Will make but a sorrowfull sound,
A barber without e'er a'razor,
Needs neither a strap nor a hound.
A ship that's without e’er a sail,
May be driven we know not whither
’Tis just such another sad want,
When a shoe-maker wants his leather.
