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Lyric The plough boy


A flaxen-headed cowboy, as simple as may be,
And next a merry plough boy, I whistled o er the lea;
But now a saucy footman, I strut in worsted lace,
And soon I ll be a butler, and whey my jolly face.

When steward I m promoted I ll snip the tradesmen s bill,
My master s coffers empty, my pockets for to fill.
When lolling in my charlot so great a man I ll be,
So great a man, so great a man, so great a man I ll be,
You ll forget the little plough boy who whistled o er the lea.
You ll forget the little plough boy who whistled o er the lea.

I ll buy votes at elections, and when I ve made the pelf,
I ll stand poll for the parliament, and then vote in myself.
Whetever s good for me, sir, I never will oppose:
When all my ayes are sold off, why then I ll sell my noes.

I ll joke, harangue and paragraph, with speeches charm the ear,
And when I m tired on my legs, then I ll sit down a peer.
In court or city honour so great a man I ll be,
So great a man, so great a man, so great a man I ll be,
You ll forget the little plough boy who whistled o er the lea.
You ll forget the little plough boy who whistled o er the lea.
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