Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John

My son John was a fast young fellow,
Everynight came home half on,
With regret I have to own it,
Fond of sprees was my son John;
Though each day I'd reprimand him,
Last week he came home at one,
Stumbled upstairs to his bedroom,
Very tight was my son John.

Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John,
He went to bed with his trousers on,
One leg off and another leg on,
Diddle,diddle, dumpling, my son John.

And so bad was this young fellow,
Could not see what he had done,
What a sight too for a father,
Wicked boy was my son John.
To his bedroom I ascended,
There he was indeed quite gone,
On his couch in sleep reclining,
Half attired was my son John.

Soda water in the morning,
Breakfast, afternoon at one
Looking bleary in the optics,
Down at two came my son, John,
Quite oblivious of his conduct.
Asked indeed what he had done,
How did I come home last night Dad?
Very drunk,said I son John.

John said father, pray,forgive me,
I'm ashamed of what I've done,
I'll take the pledge and no more drink,
He's kept his word, has my son John,
If you drink in moderation,
Of objections I have none,
If you can't then my advice is
Take the pledge like my son John.

Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John,
Now never goes to bed with his trousers on,
Never gets tight and he's never half on,
A teetle, teetle tot'ler is my son John.