There was a tinker lived of late
Who walked the streets of Rye
He bore his pack upon his back
Patches and plugs did cry
O I have brass within my bag
My hammer's full of metal.
And as to skill I well can clout
And mend a broken kettle

maiden did this tinker meet
And to him boldly say
For sure, my kettle hath much need
If you will pass my way
She took the tinker by the hand
And led him to her door
Says she my kettle I will show
And you can clout it sure

For patching and plugging is his delight
His work goes forward day and night

Fair maid says he your kettle's cracked
The cause is plainly told
There hath so many nails been drove
Mine own could not take hold
Says she it hath endured some knocks
and more it may i know
I'm sure a large large nail will hold
If it was [bad word] in so

For patching and plugging is his delight
His work goes forward, day and night.