As we were a-walking down by the seaside
Who did we meet with but Sergeant McBride.
We determined to have a bit bathe in the tide;
It was all on a fine summer's morning.
And as we were a-walking down by the sea sand
Who did we meet with but Corporal Brand
And a little wee drummer called Arthur McDent,
Going to the fair in the morning.
"Oh well it's now, my brave fellows, if you want to enlist
It's five golden guineas I'll clap in your fist.
Besides there's five shilling to kick up a dust
As you go to the fair in the morning.
And it's then you will also go decent and clean
While score other fellows go dirty and mean,
While score other fellows go dirty and mean
And sup their bugoo in the morning."
"And you need not be talking about your fine pay
For all you have got is one shilling a day;
And as for your debt, oh, the drum pays your way
As you march through the town in the morning.
And you need not be talking about your fine clothes,
Why, you've just got the loan of them, as I suppose;
And you dare not sell 'em in spite of your nose
Or you would get flogged in the morning."
"Oh well I'm blessed," says the sergeant, "if I allow more of that,
From any co*ks-crow[?] or cow-feeding brat.
And if you tip me any more of your chat
I'll run you through in the morning."
But before they had time for to pull out their blades
Our whacking shillelaghs came over their heads.
And we did teach them that we with their blades
Did dampen their rage in the morning.
And as for the drummer, oh we diddled[?] his pow,
And we made a football of his row-dee-dee-dow.
And into the tide we bid him to row
And bade them all a good morning.