And then I’ll come back with a pack on my back,
Bawling frying-pans, saucepans, and kettles to mend.
Chorus, I’m, &c.
I have lost all my riches, I have worn out my breeches,
I am turned out of place, and have nowhere to go,
My state is most shocking, great holes in my stocking,
And my poor tender toes peeping out of my shoe—
Why should they so serve me, and try for to starve me?
I fought for my country and stood by my Queen.
Bad luck to the Prussians, the Austrians, and Russians,