Golden Dustman, The

Me and old Bill Smiff's bin dust-'oys
Allus worked the same old rahnd
Strange to say we've struck a Klondyke
And we've shared the welf we fahnd
'Ow it 'appened, there's a miser
'Ud never let us shift 'is dust
A Toosday night 'e died, and Wensday
Like two burglars in we bust
Gets to work and blest yer eye-sight
Oh, such a welf yer never saw
'Apeneys, fardens, lor, in fousands
And to fink that last week I was poor.

But nah I'm goin' to be a regular toff
A ridin' in a carriage and a pair
A top 'at on my 'ead, and fevvers in my bed
And call meself a dook o' Barnet Fair
As-terry-my-can rahnd the bottom o' my coat
A Piccadilly winder in my eye
Ah, fancy all the dustmen a-shoutin' in my yer
'Leave us in yer will before yer die'.

Stuck inside a rusty saucepan
Wot looked a worn out mat
Close in-spec-shun, 'twas a stocking
Full o' nuggets - big as that
Down we flops upon our kneeses
See my scoopin' up the welf
When up I jumps, oh! oh! so happy
'Ardly could believe meself
The Guvnor just nah sez 'Come, 'Iggins,
'Ere get to work, yer looks 'arf tight'
'Get to work, 'ere who yer kiddin'?
Yer can dine wiv me next Sunday night.'

In the Summer I'll go yachting
With the dooks and the Em-per-ors
In the autumn spot yer 'umble
Shooting grouses on the moors
What price me drivin' tandem
Wiv a cahntess at me side?
If she likes to pop the question
Well, I'll consent to be 'er bride
As for low in-sin-u-a-tions
As regards my style and sich
Well, I'll soon teach 'em ettiketty
If I slaps this 'cross their snitch.