‘CROCODILE’S TEARS
OR
Bonaparte’s Lamentation
A NEW SONG.
Tune ‘Bow, wow, wow.’
By gar, this Johnny Bull—be a very cunning elf, Sir,
He by de Arts and Commerce thrive, and so he gain de pelf, Sir;
But he no let us rob de land—or else, with naval thunder,
He’ll send dat lion bold, Jack Tar, and make us all strike under.
Lack, Lack a day, fal lal, &c.
By gar, de British Bulvarks be—a very grand annoyance,
I’m told, against all EUROPE join’d, they’ve often dar’d defiance!
Then what can France and Holland do? By gar, dat day me rue, Sir,
When I de peaceful Treaty broke—to England prov’d untrue, Sir.
Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c.
And then, when in von passion thrown, by gar, I took occasion,
To shew de Gasconade de France! and threat them with Invasion!
John Bull, he made at me de scoff, and call’d me Gasconader,
By gar, me find he ne’er will flinch—from any French Invader!
Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c.
And now, what vex me worse than all, John Bull prepare for war, Sir,
For, fraught with vengeance, he send out that valiant dog, Jack Tar, Sir,
By gar, he sweep de Channel clean, and den he mar our sport, Sir,
He either take de ships of France, or block them in de port, Sir,
Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c.
This spoil’d my scheme for sending troops from Gallia’s shore to Dover,
So then, by gar, me send them off, and then they took Hanover;
But, for to ratify the terms, th’ Elector did not choose, Sir,
Because, I’m told, the British King, to sign them did refuse, Sir.
Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c.
O! next I make more gasconade, and then most loudly boast, Sir,
That I would send flat-bottom’d boats, and soon invade de coast, Sir,
‘That all the men in arms I found, by gar, I’d take their lives, Sir,
And put to sword the Britons all, their children, and their wives, Sir!!!’
Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c.
I found my boasting threats are vain, for now, all ranks, by gar, Sir,
From fifteen, up to fifty-five, are all prepar’d for war, Sir,
They swear, ‘no Gallic yoke they’ll bear, or Corsican’s proud sting, Sir,
But, bravely for their Freedom fight, their Country, and their King! Sir.’
Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c.
And then they talk of warlike deeds—of Edward the Black Prince, Sir,
And how their Harries fought of old—true courage to evince, Sir,
In modern times, a Nelson brave! and Abercrombie’s fame, Sir,
O’er Gallia’s fleets and armies too, have spread eternal shame, Sir.
Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c.
By gar, me always thought, till now, I was a mighty Hero!
But then, I’m told, the people say, me cruel was as Nero,
Because three thousand Turks I slew, they say I was to blame, Sir,
As also when at Jaffa I—did poison sick and lame, Sir.
Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c.