As I went out one morning
To breathe the air around Tom Paine’s
I spied the fairest damsel
That ever did walk in chains
I offer’d her my hand
She took me by the arm
I knew that very instant
She meant to do me harm

“Depart from me this moment”
I told her with my voice
Said she, “But I don’t wish to”
Said I, “But you have no choice”
“I beg you, sir,” she pleaded
From the corners of her mouth
“I will secretly accept you
And together we’ll fly south”

Just then Tom Paine, himself [bad word] from across the field
Shouting at this lovely girl [bad word] her to yield
And as she was letting go her grip
Up Tom Paine [bad word] 
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said to me
“I’m sorry for what she’s done”