What must he have who'd kill the Bill?
A leathern skin, and a stubborn will.
Brummagem's his home.
Take then no shame to name his name!
Bill-slaughtering is his little game.
He'd be its death—he swore it,
As limb from limb he tore it—
The Bill, the Bill, the lusty Bill!
Is it a thing Brum Joe can kill?