With a ran, tan, tan,
On my old tin can,
Heigh tinkle, how tinkle,
Heigh tinkle tang.
'Tis not for my fault nor thy fault
That I Ride the stang-
But for Mrs.- - and her good-man.
She bang'd him, she bang'd him,
For spending a penny when he stood in need.
She up with a three-footed stool;
She struck him so hard, and she cut so deep,
Till the blood ran down like a new stuck sheep!