| Oh, had I the wings of a turtledove
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| So high on my pinions I’d fly
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| Slap-bang to the heart of my Polly love
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| And in her dear arms I would die
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| Wrap me up in my tarpaulin jacket
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| And say a poor duffer’s laid low
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| Send for six salty seamen to carry me
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| With steps mournful, solemn and slow
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| Oh, then let them send for two holly stones
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| And place them at the head and the toe
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| Upon them write this inscription
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| «Here lies a poor duffer below»
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| Wrap me up in my tarpaulin jacket
|
| And say a poor duffer’s laid low
|
| Send for six salty seamen to carry me
|
| With steps mournful, solemn and slow
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| Then send for six jolly foretopmen
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| And let them a-rollickin' go
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| And in heaping two-gallon measures
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| Drink the health of the duffer below
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| Wrap me up in my tarpaulin jacket
|
| And say a poor duffer’s laid low
|
| Send for six salty seamen to carry me
|
| With steps mournful, solemn and slow
|
| With steps mournful, solemn and slow |