When I was young and under ten
 silly wee fool was I
 The morning that I left the school
 I heard my mother cry

 [bad word] 
 Get up, get out, you lazy lout
 Get into your working clothes
 Up to your knees in oil and grease
 And a grindstone to your nose

 I bought me a clock, a pretty good clock
 To help me to tell the time
 It awakened me every morning
 With a very poetic rhyme

 I married me a wife, a pretty good wife
 And kept her many a year [bad word] what may, she'd begin each day
 By whispering in my ear

 Now some get to lie as long as they like
 They're luckier men than me
 I never get to lie very long
 I'm only four foot three