Dead-drunk and muddled was he found;
And soon the lockups grim inside
Contained the leary one who cried
“Young Lambs to sell.”
From The Free-Lance, Manchester.
U-Pi-Dee.
The shades of night were coming down fast, U-pi-Dee, U-pi-Day,
When through a Roman village pass’d U-pi-Dee, U-pi-Day.
A youth who’d had champagne in ice