They'll take my livelyhood away! No, drat it, that will never do!
A world without no priwilege, no pickings, and no perks in it,
Wy—'twould be like Big Ben up there if it 'ad got no works in it.
These demmycratic levellers is the butchers of Society,
They'd take its tops and innards off and hout. I loves wariety.
Them Commons is a common lot, as like all round as winkleses,
But Marquiges—lord bless 'em!—they is like bright stars as twinkleses
And makes the sky respectable; and its a old, old story
As stars—and likeways garters—must 'ave differences in glory.
Wy, even street lamps wary, and I says the harrystocracy