He pelongs mit de Freesangerbund, un he vas a Turner too,
Un politics makes him nix difference, but ven you comes mit de Maine liquors law to dake avay his lager bier, den, py dam, dat vas someding new,
To dis fine old Dietchen shentleman, von of de pestest kind.
Dis fine old Dietchen shentlemen he vent to bed drunk efery night,
Un somedimes ven dere vas coming rount elections, mit de udder fellers he’d fight,
Un slouck dem on de koup mit a double-barrel’d powie knife, but I don’t tink dat vas rite,
For ven vun of dem peeples haf his head preak’d into his nose all ofer his face, un vas nearly drownded mit a big stick, I tell you somedings rite avay shust now dat vas a sorry sight,
To dis fine old Dietchen shentleman, von of de goot olt kind.
But von time dere comed some drouples, un he fight mit all his main,