You've got to be a foxer, for whilst slums makes topping rent,
There will always be lots 'anging round to put yer off the scent!
I can tell yer arf the right 'uns even ain't quite in the know,
And there's lots o' little fakes to make 'em boggle, or go slow.
Werry plorserble their statements, and they puts 'em nice and plain,
And a crockidile can drop 'em when 'e once turns on the main.
All the tenants' faults; they likes it, dirt, and scrowging, and damp walls!
They git used to 'orrid odours! O the Landlord's tear-drop falls.
Werry often, when collecting of his rents, to see the 'oles
Where the parties as must pay 'em up prefers to stick, pore souls!