There’s a pretty bobbin winder, they call her Mary Jane,
She’s courting a snob! so help my bob, that lives in —— lane;
Last Sunday afternoon, she thought to cut it fine,
With the hoop of her mother’s washing tub, she made a crinoline.
I knew a steam loom weaver so cunning and so sly,
She had got a hump upon her back, and she squints with one eye,
She works at —— factory, her name is Anne O’Brian,
Her smock’s as black as a chimney back and wears a crinoline.
There’s a woman lives up —— road, they call her mother ——,
She wants to buy a crinoline, to wear underneath her gown?