The Chick-a-Leary Cove.
I’m a “Chickaleary bloke”[102] with my one, two, three,
Whitechapel was the village, I was born in,
For to get me on the hop, or on my “tibby”[103] drop,
You must wake up very early in the morning.
I have a “rorty”[104] gal, also a knowing pal,
And merrily together we jog on,
I doesn’t care a “flatch”[105] as long as I’ve a “tach,”[106]
Some “pan-num”[107] for my chest, and a “tog”[108] on.
I’m a Chickaleary bloke with my one, two, three,