Good people, listen unto me,
I'm going for to sing;
Tomorrow on the gallows tree
I'm going for to swing;
I always was a modest man,
They shouldn't treat me so,
To stick me on a scaffolding
When people are below!

I can't just tell where I was born,
And don't a great deal care —
If men get well into the world
It's no great matter where:
And I've forgot the fellow's name,
That took me to be bred —
I only know he pulled my ears,
And so I broke his head.

It makes me sad to speak of them —
Those loved and cherished ears;
They've been upon the pillory
These many, many years:
It pained me much to part with them,
Such long and faithful friends —
And so I took the Mayor's horse,
To make myself amends.

The constables came after me,
And took me up one day:
They tied my hands and called me names —
But then I got away.
To say I stole — it made me feel
Unutterable grief.
And so I robbed upon the road,
To show I wan't a thief.

They're going to hang me for it now
And this is all I've got
For standing like a gentleman
The risk of being shot —
To have a fellow paw my neck,
And fix it in a string —
And I a hearty lad — it seems
A devilish paltry thing.

They're waiting for me to be dished,
Like flocks of carrion crows;
The doctor wants my skeleton,
The jailor wants my clothes;
The hangman has been practising
How slip-knots should be tied;
The tanner made a morning call —
I think he wants my hide!

They've put me in a picture book,
The likeness isn't true —
My eyes were never goggle eyes,
My nose is not askew —
And here's the sheriff at the door,
I wish they'd let me be —
It may be pleasant work to them —
It isn't fun to me!