Some folks may talk about a trade,
And the joys that from it spring, Sirs,
And after you my words have weighed,
You’ll say it’s no such thing, Sirs.
Though at me you may jeer and laugh,
My joys think to decrease, man,
But I mean to say, (and I do not chaff,)
I should like to be a policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
Of the boys I’d be the terror, mind,
The fruit stalls, too, I’d sell ’em,
And disturbance of every kind,
I with my staff would quell ’em,
A “charge” would be as good as pelf,
My pleasures ‘twould increase, man,
For I’d make the “charges” up myself,
When I’m a new Policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
To the kitchen maids like wax I’d stick,
And tho’ I’m not a glutton,
(The thoughts on’t makes me my chops lick)
Oh, I likes a bit of mutton.
When in my toggery I’m arrayed,
From me there’s no release, man,
The boldest of men would be afraid,
If I was a new Policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
A drunken man’s a chance I’d hail,
It would my ear delight, Sir,
To search him well I would not fail,
For right is naught to might, Sir.
I’d turn his pockets inside out,
And quickly would him flay, man,
And who would dare to harbour doubt,
Against a new Policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
The cracksmen too, should tip to me,
Or else I would soon lag ’em,
But if they did, I should not see,
That is I should not “stag” ’em.
And, if amusement I should lack,
Tho’ I’m one that likes the peace, man,
A pate or two, I’d surely crack,
I should like to be a Policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
The prospect does me such delight,
I mount on wings of joy, Sir,
It does to wealth and fame invite,
And pleasure without alloy, Sir,
When I’m established in the force,
I’ll have a bob a piece, man,
From lushy swells, or I’ll lock ’em up,
I should like to be a Policeman.
And the joys that from it spring, Sirs,
And after you my words have weighed,
You’ll say it’s no such thing, Sirs.
Though at me you may jeer and laugh,
My joys think to decrease, man,
But I mean to say, (and I do not chaff,)
I should like to be a policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
Of the boys I’d be the terror, mind,
The fruit stalls, too, I’d sell ’em,
And disturbance of every kind,
I with my staff would quell ’em,
A “charge” would be as good as pelf,
My pleasures ‘twould increase, man,
For I’d make the “charges” up myself,
When I’m a new Policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
To the kitchen maids like wax I’d stick,
And tho’ I’m not a glutton,
(The thoughts on’t makes me my chops lick)
Oh, I likes a bit of mutton.
When in my toggery I’m arrayed,
From me there’s no release, man,
The boldest of men would be afraid,
If I was a new Policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
A drunken man’s a chance I’d hail,
It would my ear delight, Sir,
To search him well I would not fail,
For right is naught to might, Sir.
I’d turn his pockets inside out,
And quickly would him flay, man,
And who would dare to harbour doubt,
Against a new Policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
The cracksmen too, should tip to me,
Or else I would soon lag ’em,
But if they did, I should not see,
That is I should not “stag” ’em.
And, if amusement I should lack,
Tho’ I’m one that likes the peace, man,
A pate or two, I’d surely crack,
I should like to be a Policeman.
Taking up and knocking down,
Your noise and bother cease, man,
O, won’t I come it jolly brown
When I’m a new Policeman.
The prospect does me such delight,
I mount on wings of joy, Sir,
It does to wealth and fame invite,
And pleasure without alloy, Sir,
When I’m established in the force,
I’ll have a bob a piece, man,
From lushy swells, or I’ll lock ’em up,
I should like to be a Policeman.
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby - 12/12/2017 - 14:10
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Anonima ballata di strada risalente a metà 800, proveniente con tutta probabilità da Manchester o Leeds.
Tra le Bodleian Library Broadside Ballads
La versione che contribuisco è quella pubblicata nella raccolta “Modern Street Ballads” a cura di John Ashton, pubblicata nel 1888.