To that sweet little band in the Mongol land a terrible fate befell.
On a summer day in a sportive way they called one another all,
And over and o’er the names they bore they would call and call and call.
They called Ah Cheu
And Tish Ah Tsu
And the baby Ker Chee, Ker Chee,
And their Uncle Ker Chawl,
They called them all,
Till they’re dead as dead can be.
Ah Cheu was tough, and was used to snuff, so he lived at his fate to scoff,