I once knew a fellow called Arthur McBride
And his pleasure was walking down by the seaside
A-walking, a-talking, a-viewing the tide
If the weather was pleasant and charming
So gay and so gallant we went on a tramp
We met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Cramp
And the bonnie little drummer who roused up the camp
With his rowdedowdow in the morning
What ho, my good fellows, the sergeant did cry
The same to you, sergeant, we made to reply
There was nothing more said and we made to pass by
All on that bright summer's morning
What ho, my good fellows, if you would enlist
Ten guineas in gold I would slap in your fist
And a crown in the bargain to kick up the dust
And to drink the King's health in the morning
Oh no my good sergeant, we are not for sale
Though we're fond of our country your bribes won't avail
Though we're fond of our country we care not to sail
For we are the boys of the morning
If you would insult me without any word
I swear by my king I would draw my broad sword
And I'd run through your body as strength me afford
Ere you could breathe out the morning
We laid the little drummer as flat as a shoe
We made a football of his rowdedowdoo
The sergeant, the corporal, we knocked out the two
For we were the boys of the morning
And as for the weapons that hung by their side
We flung them as far as we could in the tide
And the devil go with you, says Arthur McBride
For spoiling our walk in the morning.
And his pleasure was walking down by the seaside
A-walking, a-talking, a-viewing the tide
If the weather was pleasant and charming
So gay and so gallant we went on a tramp
We met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Cramp
And the bonnie little drummer who roused up the camp
With his rowdedowdow in the morning
What ho, my good fellows, the sergeant did cry
The same to you, sergeant, we made to reply
There was nothing more said and we made to pass by
All on that bright summer's morning
What ho, my good fellows, if you would enlist
Ten guineas in gold I would slap in your fist
And a crown in the bargain to kick up the dust
And to drink the King's health in the morning
Oh no my good sergeant, we are not for sale
Though we're fond of our country your bribes won't avail
Though we're fond of our country we care not to sail
For we are the boys of the morning
If you would insult me without any word
I swear by my king I would draw my broad sword
And I'd run through your body as strength me afford
Ere you could breathe out the morning
We laid the little drummer as flat as a shoe
We made a football of his rowdedowdoo
The sergeant, the corporal, we knocked out the two
For we were the boys of the morning
And as for the weapons that hung by their side
We flung them as far as we could in the tide
And the devil go with you, says Arthur McBride
For spoiling our walk in the morning.
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