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The Peeler and the Goat Oh, the Penshaw peeler went one night On duty and patrolling He spied a goat upon the road And took him for a-strolling Bayonet fixed, he sallied forth And he caught him by the wizzen There swore out a mighty oath He's send him off to prison Have mercy, sir, the goat replied And let me tell my story I am no rogue, no ribbon man No cockey, Whig, or Tory I'm innocent of any crime, Of petty or high treason For my tribe is active at this time It is the mating season. "Do not complain," the peeler said But give your tongue a bridle You're absent from your dwelling place, Disorderly, and idle Your hoary locks will not prevail Nor your sublime oration For the penal laws will you transport On your own information No penal laws have I transgressed By deed or combination It's true I have no place of rest, No home, or habitation But Penshaw is my dwelling place Where I was bread and borne-o I'm of an honest working race That's all the trade I've learned-o I wager, sir, that you are drunk On whiskey, rum, and brandy Or you wouldn't have such gallant spunk To be so bold and manly You readily would let me pass If I had money handy I'd take you to the parting glass Its then I'd be the dandy Recorded on "Borderlands" DC
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!